Mr Hollywood
by Nika Dixon
Summary: COMPLETE! An old friend of Jen's arrives on Atlantis and causes a big stir. Unfortunately for everyone, he's not who he seems.
1. Chapter 1

_Author's Note: A little story that popped into my head. Jennifer runs into someone she used to know, and he's causing all kinds of problems. But the simple things are going to get a lot worse before they get better. :) Definitely some Ronon/Keller steaminess, and a healthy does of Evan Lorne for good measure. :P_

* * *

**PROLOGUE**

* * *

_YEARS EARLIER (EARTH)_

"Come on, Jenny-bean. Where's your sense of adventure?"

"It left hours ago with the last of the evacuees." Jennifer muttered to herself, quickly snapping the case closed.

She hunched her shoulders at the annoying nickname he insisted on using. At least the other volunteers were kind enough to call her by her name – her real name - but some how, this guy just couldn't take the hint.

Jen was very, _very_ glad the evacuation orders had finally been called. They'd done everything they could and now it was time to leave.

A contingent of local police, firefighters, and volunteers had finally finished evacuating several mountain villages, under the warning that the top half of 'mud mountain' - as the national media dubbed it - was about to collapse and 'wipe them off the map'.

Logging companies had clear cut the mountain with such perfection there was nothing left to hold back the surface from the small hamlets dotted along the slopes below. Days of rain had all but destroyed any chance there was of the mountain remaining solid.

Several smaller mudslides had toppled a few of the outlying houses, and Jen had volunteered to help treat the injured. Everyone was now sewn, set, bandaged and evac'd, so the impromptu first-aid station was quickly being dismantled.

Brandon Hoyle grinned and accepted the closed case she held out to him, his fingers lingering on hers just a little too long.

Jen frowned and pulled her hand back, turning her attention to packing up the last of the supplies, blaming no one but herself for her current, uncomfortable, predicament.

When she'd been told there was fresh blood coming – volunteers – she'd readily jumped at the chance to have an extra set of hands. Then she'd seen him… and oh boy, the guy was more sexy in person than on screen - Hollywood action hero Brandon Hoyle. All the women did a double take, and even her little used libido sat up and said helloooo.

She'd certainly not been one to turn down an extra set of hands.

If only his hands were there to help her for medicinal reasons.

Unfortunately for her, Brandon Hoyle was not only good looking… he knew it, and played it to his full advantage. And while she'd quickly learned that little fact – she'd also learned it way to late in the game to make a difference.

Because Brandon Hoyle had a nasty case of the grabies.

No matter what she needed done, he found a way to have to touch her to do it. Handing her a box of bandages – rub her arm. Moving equipment, brush up against her backside. Sliding paperwork across the table, slip a hand across her chest. And from what she could tell – he did it with every woman – volunteer or patient – and much to Jen's disgust, it earned him school girl giggles and blushes from said women, and disgusted glares or awe-inspired stares from the men.

It was driving her to distraction with such fervor she'd put a tensor bandage on the patient's wrist instead of foot, handed the mother the lolly-pop and the 3 year old the bottle of antibiotics, and tried to give an EMP technician the tetanus shot instead of the man with the jagged cut on the bottom of his foot.

So she'd attempted to pass him off on several other volunteers and doctors, but the men had seen what she was up against and insisted they were just fine. No help needed, thank you very much. The women, of course, said yes… but Brandon insisted he was perfectly happy where he was.

Yay for Jen.

So after two days of nonstop rain, and nonstop Brandon, Jen was ready to walk out and let the mud slide bury her.

Then, at least she'd be at peace.

Okay sure, if she had to admit it out loud, Brandon Hoyle might have been one hell of a catch. He was insanely rich - his father a billionaire media mogul and soon to be US Senator. He had a gorgeously hard surfer body, and a Hollywood smile that could to turn her to jelly whenever she'd see him on screen. She used to imagine herself on the screen – the hapless heroine, rescued by the super spy, or the rough edged detective, or the bad-boy biker… and the spectacular kiss he'd give her as he whisked her away from the bad guys… professing his undying love as they flew/drove/rode off into the sunset.

But now, now that she'd met him, she just couldn't bring herself to consider anything more than the insane urge to run away screaming.

There was desperate, and then there was _desperate_.

And something about Brandon Hoyle made her stomach curdle.

Jen had enough problems to deal with on a daily basis, she didn't need anything from an over zealous playboy. It was bad enough most people took one look at her and decided she was too small and weak to function and therefore needed a babysitter every time she was working, she didn't need the added headache of a full-of-himself rescue-hero thinking she also needed to get laid.

By him.

Of course, the more she turned him down, the more he tried. The poor guy had probably never had a woman say no before. It was liberating. And frustrating as hell.

When his arm slid around her shoulders, she jumped out of her distracted thoughts and stepped to the side with an exasperated sigh. She pointed to an open box of small glass vials on the table in front of her. "Those…" She swung her finger to a large carrying case. "Go in there."

Hoyle nodded and moved beside her, purposely brushing his arm against the side of her breast. When she rolled her eyes and stepped away, he slid her a knowing grin and a wink, and continued to pack up.

Jen concentrated on getting the last of the smaller supplies into their cases. Once done, she stepped away and quickly folded up the last pair of cots.

When she turned back she bumped right into him, sighing when his hands grabbed her arms to steady her from a fall she wasn't about to take.

Jen rolled her eyes and looked up. "That's everything. We can go now."

"You sure that's… everything? Jenny-bean?"

"_Please_ don't call me that."

"There's… nothing… else you need?" He gave her what was a very practiced honey-you-want-me-you-just-don't-know-it-yet smile and rubbed his hands suggestively up her arms.

"Mr. Hoyle, I'm pretty sure this is what could be considered inappropriate behavior."

"You're going to blame me for stealing a kiss?"

"A ki-"

He jammed his mouth over hers.

Jen blinked in surprise, her brainwaves shocked into momentary silence before they finally returned and she ripped her head back.

"Let's go, people!" A voice yelled from outside the tent. "We gotta move! The mountain's starting to collapse!"

Before Jen could say "back off" Brandon Hoyle's playboy persona disappeared and was instantly replaced with a look of pure insanity. He shoved Jen hard enough to drop her onto her tailbone and disappeared through the tent flaps into the rain.

Jen sighed.

Well if that's all it took…

_If only that was the last she'd see of him._


	2. Chapter 2

_ATLANTIS (PRESENT)_

Jen walked through the hallway, head buried in a series of blood test results from Major Parker's team. During their last off-world expedition two of the Marine's developed an odd allergic reaction to a local fruit that left them completely covered in a nasty purple rash. The rash itself seemed harmless enough, except for an odd side effect of dulled pain sensors. The two Marines were so intent on scratching, they'd carved themselves bloody, paying no mind to the obvious discomfort it should cause. She'd had to sedate them both until the rash receded.

Using her peripherals, she navigated the corridor, passing Major Lorne and a small group who were waiting inside the infirmary. Ah. Right. The new recruits from the Daedalus waiting for her to review their physicals' before being released into the city for assignment.

"Ohmygod… Jenny? Jenny-bean?"

Jen stumbled and tripped right into Evan, nearly knocking him over.

_Couldn't possibly be-_

"Jenny-bean! It is you!" As she straightened out, the voice registered with a shiver that shot straight down her spine and out the end of her toes.

She slowly lowered the tablet and turned, her wide eyes betraying what her mind already knew.

_Brandon Hoyle._

"Jenny!" He grinned and stepped forward, throwing his arms around her, pinning her arms to her side and pressing the tablet into her hipbone. He kissed her, his tongue digging furiously after her molars. With her arms stuck under his she couldn't do much more than rip her head back to escape.

He laughed. "Gorgeous as ever. I can't believe it's you! Well, damn! Atlantis, huh. I guess I know why you never returned my phone calls!"

Jen ignored the sudden wave of nausea biting the back of her throat as he crushed her. _Brandon Hoyle. Here?_

"What… what are…"

"I know!" He gushed, his arms wide. "I can't believe it either! I mean, when they told me they were sending me on a six months of deep research I couldn't believe it myself! I knew Dad had connections, but man, this is… way too cool."

"Six months?" She strangled out. "Research?"

"You betcha!" Brandon winked. "We start shooting at the end of the year. Very hush-hush you know. But it should be plenty of time to reconnect, don't you think?" He grinned and hugged her again, his hands sliding suggestively lower.

She pushed back and tried very hard to make herself appear in control, but failed miserably. Her fingers bit into the side of the tablet and she avoided looking at Evan, who she knew was staring at her intently.

"Gentlemen, this is Doctor Keller," Evan emphasized, and Jen knew that was specifically for Brandon's benefit. "She is the CMO of Atlantis and the one you need to impress to get your walking papers. She is also the one who is going to save your sorry ass when you find yourself in need of medical assistance." He nodded towards her, his gaze sliding between her and Hoyle.

Jen tried not to stare but she just couldn't help it. It was like watching a car crash – horrifying and hypnotizing.

Standing next to the two new marine recruits, posed Brandon Hoyle. Still buff, still handsome, and still sporting that idiotic kiss-me-baby-I'll-make-you-forget-everything smile.

The same smile he'd shown her right before… Oh no. She wasn't going there. Was _not_ going there. She slammed the mental door and struggled to keep her brain in the present.

"CMO!" Brandon gushed. "That's like, what? Upper management, isn't it? Damn, that's awesome. You always were a smart little thing!" He grinned, dropping his arm around her shoulder and giving her another squeeze, yanking her sharply back and forth as he laughed. Jen finally got the feet beneath her to accept commands and stepped forward, shrugging out from under his arm. Survival instinct kinking in, she moved to stand next to the Evan.

"Dr. Keller, I'd like you to meet Lieutenants Colpowski and Masters, and apparently you already know Mr. Hoyle?"

The other two Marine's obviously had an inkling of what the chain of command was, and gave her a properly serious nod of acknowledgment, even though she could see the calculating glance they'd given each other before returning to stare at a spot somewhere over her head. Evan was quietly watching her, and Brandon Hoyle stood there grinning like he'd just been given a Emmy.

_Oh, damn, damn, damn._

Gripping the tablet in front of her like a shield, Jen stepped back and took a deep breath, trying to remember what it was she was supposed to be doing. She wasn't sure how long she stood there gaping like an idiot before Evan cleared his throat.

"Right." She stammered. "I ah, if you… you'll follow me, we'll get you through your evaluations as um… quickly as possible."

And for a brief moment, Jen was glad, really, really glad – ecstatic even – that she was the CMO.

She delegated.

Then ran.

There was no way she was going to see any more of Brandon Hoyle than absolutely necessary.

If only it were that easy.


	3. Chapter 3

After two days of hiding in doorways and jumping into random rooms with frequently embarrassing consequences, Jen came to the conclusion there was pretty much no way she was going to be able to avoid Brandon Hoyle. Atlantis was just way too small, and the only place she'd been successfully able hide would be occupied in a few hours when SGA-1 returned… and then she'd have some explaining to do.

He'd caught her in the cafeteria, two nurses tagging along behind him like puppy dogs, and made her spill orange juice all down the front of her shirt when he tickled her armpit. Twice in the infirmary, he'd snuck up behind her. The first time kissed the back of her neck making her drop a tray of previously sterilized supplies. The second time his hands landed on her shoulders in such an incredibly badly done impromptu massage her neck was sore for the rest of the afternoon from his stabbing thumbs. Outside Woolsey's office she had the unfortunate timing of being present in the gate room when Brandon came out of his introductory meeting to yell "Hey Jenny-bean! Wait up!" from the second floor balcony, prompting snickers and knowing glances from the entire security team.

She was running out of excuses as to why she wasn't going to sit down and have diner with him, or lunch, or breakfast, or a snack, or coffee, or anything else involving just the two of them. He insisted they needed to spend some time alone to catch up. That he'd had something _very_ important he wanted to discus. Which made her stomach scatter even further with her stammered excuses.

He'd woken her up twice the first night, apologizing for the space-lag, and three times again last night, claiming he was still getting used to the time of day and forgot she'd been working afternoons. She hadn't had this much caffeine in her system since her internship. Her fingers were shaking and she was beginning to wonder just how McKay functioned on this much coffee.

Her staff was calling her Jenny-bean, three nurses were fighting over who got time off to show Brandon around the city, two female doctors pestered her with questions about how she knew him and would she mind terribly if they went to dinner with him since she wasn't interested and how could she not be interested and oh-my-god-he's-so-gorgeous… She had an increased influx of botanists, scientists and even the female Marine's flowing through the infirmary since everyone seemed to know that's where Brandon was eventually going to show up.

The man was worse than Lucious. Brandon's level of attraction was 100 percent, grade-A, gym-body, Hollywood playboy. Women were swooning and men were falling for it. _Front row seats? You betcha Lieutenant! Her autograph? Consider it done, Doctor!_

They had a celebrity on board and everyone knew it.

If only they knew just what Brandon Hoyle was really like.

Hours of internal debate while hiding left her with three distinct choices, and three equally weighted problems.

One… When Colonel Sheppard's team returned from MR2-755 she could tell the Colonel what she knew about Brandon Hoyle, which would result in the man being returned to Earth on the next trip by the Daedalus. The problem was, she'd have to reveal just _how_ she knew. And that little story was something she was never bringing up again. Yep, that memory was gone. She'd killed it, held a funeral, buried it, and planted flowers.

Two… She could buck it up, and try to believe he'd changed. Brandon Hoyle wasn't the dangerous little psychopath she'd once known. He'd made it past the IOA, so he had to have something going for him, right? They had to have interviewed him. Made sure he wasn't a safety risk. Done all the psych evaluations and proper security checks, right? The problem was, if she was wrong, and Daddy _had_ simply purchased his way in with a disgustingly large donation to the space program, then any team he was assigned to work with was going to be in very serious trouble the minute Brandon was put under a high pressure situation. She didn't have the contacts to find out, but Colonel Sheppard did, which returned her right back to Option One.

Three… She could use her status as CMO to use the city wide sensors to keep a constant bead on Brandon, and thus kill off the two birds of avoiding him, and keeping an eye on him. The problems with that plan were so numerous, she almost crossed it off the list completely. Almost. Unfortunately, using the sensors would get back to the Colonel and she'd be right back to Option One.

Jen sighed.

And of course there was always the occasionally dreamed of, yet really impractical Option Four. One glance from Ronon while she was being forcefully tonsil-tongued by Brandon Hoyle and the man was as good as dead.

Yeah… Option One was looking more like the winner, although for a few fleeting moments each time, she really did find herself considering Option Four.

She sighed again.

It was going to be a long… day… week… month… _six _months… and she briefly wondered just how much more she was going to be able to take before she ran screaming off the end of the south pier.

* * *

It was late afternoon when SGA-1 returned to the city, their survey of MR2-755 proving to be what Ronon considered incredibly boring, but McKay insisted was absolutely fascinating. John called it a day, ordering everyone to down time until 08:00 when they'd return to the planet to give Rodney another crack at the ancient ruins.

Ronon was looking forward to going for a run followed by a nice long session in the gym with a couple of new recruits. Just enough to get the boredom out of his system… for a few hours at least.

But first he wanted to swing by the infirmary.

No particular reason.

As they walked the hallways towards the armory, they ran into Evan, who trekked with them, giving John a heads up on a few routine issues with some of the personnel and status on the other off-world teams.

Ronon didn't really need to stick around, but he always found it helpful to have as much information as possible, so he usually hung out for the updates. Neither Lorne nor Sheppard seemed concerned with sharing.

Standing in the armory, amidst the boxes of weapons and ammunition, they listened as Evan was about to finish an update on the half a dozen new recruits that arrived on the Daedalus two days ago when a flurry of flying blond hair flashed past the hallway entrance.

Everyone turned when a hand slapped out, grabbing the doorway and propelling a very flustered looking Jennifer back into the room.

"I'm not here." She muttered quickly, scrambling around them and ducking down in behind a stack of crates. "You don't know me, haven't seen me, never heard of me, and can't find me."

When the three men stared at the spot she disappeared, then looked quizzically at each other, Ronon and John both noticed that Evan didn't seem the least bit surprised. In fact, he actually stepped away from the boxes and angled his head, suggesting they move towards the front room.

"It's a long story-" Evan was interrupted by a boisterous voice which Ronon didn't recognize.

Ronon turned to survey the newcomer. Young, blond, clean shaven, he looked suspiciously… happy. He gave Evan a hearty shoulder slap, shot Colonel Sheppard some kind of odd pretend-your-hand-is-a-gun snappy finger wiggle, and thought briefly of shaking Ronon's hand before smartly deciding it might not be in his best interest.

Was _this_ why Jennifer was hiding in the armory?

And if so… just _why_ was she hiding?

The minute the man opened his mouth, Ronon had the answer. The man didn't stop talking. But it was what he was talking _about_ that gave Ronon more than a little fuel for the fire.

"Say you boys wouldn't happen to have seen Jenny… er… sorry" he laughed heartily… "I mean _Doctor_ Keller. I keep forgetting she has a title and everything. I mean, Chief Medical Officer, right? CMO? Seriously!" his head angled as he tried to scout out the room but John stepped forward and forced him back into the main room. "I swear I saw her come down this way… was going to take her to supper you know… she's hard to track down. Fast, that girl! And _wow_ too, if you get my drift. Beautiful… and brains, too! Not easy to find that kind of package these days, huh!"

Ronon felt a snake uncoiling in his abdomen as the man discussed Jennifer with such familiarity. He leaned forward with a sharp growl but was cut off by John as he moved to intercept.

John gave Ronon one of his don't-even-think-about-it stares before turning towards the new guy. "This area's off limits to non military personnel, Mr…?"

"Oh damn, that's right! Forgot to introduce myself again, didn't I. I keep forgetting you folks have been here a while. Haven't seen me in the media or anything. Don't suppose you get the Times or People Mag way out here in the middle of nowhere. No regular television, isn't that right Ev?"

Evan frowned, then made the introductions.

"So, _you're_ the Colonel, huh." Brandon nodded, giving John a once over. "Just the guy I hear I should be talking to! No one else seems to know anything about how a guy's supposed to get onto one of these missions I keep hearing about!"

"Mr. Hoyle, this room is off limits to non Military personnel. I'm afraid I'm going to have to ask you to leave." John cut him off abruptly.

Ronon took his cue and hooked his hand on Hoyle's upper arm, propelling him back towards the hallway.

"Oh…" Brandon looked down at where Ronon's fingers weren't exactly gripping lightly. "Right. Hey, that's some grip you got there. You ever thought of stunt work? No? Okay. I ah… guess I'll catch you later then?"

Releasing him into the hallway, Ronon spun and returned to the room, waving the door closed behind him, and cutting off the loud request to tell _Jenny_ that Brandon was looking for her.

He'd felt a surge of concern over her un-characteristic actions, but seeing the reason for it, he had to say he was a little less concerned about Jennifer, and a _lot_ more annoyed with Hoyle.

"Okay who the hell was that?" John said, his brow furrowed while he stared at Evan.

Evan rolled his eyes. "Guess you two haven't been in the chick-flick market in the last six years? That… was Brandon Hoyle. Hollywood action hero. I mean, come on… Seriously? You've never heard of him? Never seen any of his movies? Damn. Then count yourself lucky. He acts about as well as a stick of butter. Daddy's worth billions, and a US Senator. Hoyle has access to just about everything if you hear him tell it. And – lucky us - he's here doing research on his latest movie. Space vampires."

"Space Vampires?" John repeated slowly.

"Working title." Evan grinned maniacally. "Suave space captain leads a band of renegades to chase down the space vampire aliens who kidnapped his centerfold-gorgeous, and scantily dressed, lady love."

"Wow. That sounds god awful." John's brow furrowed and he grinned. "And you sound like a fan."

"I…" Evan smirked. "Know how to play the dating game. You, sir, are obviously not aware of the effect a good chick-flick has on the libido of an unsuspecting female movie-goer."

"Unaware?" John raised an eyebrow in defiance.

"Trust me." Evan nodded. "You've been replaced."

"I've been replaced?"

Evan just grinned.

"We'll just have to see about that, now won't we." John smirked, then glanced over his shoulder towards the other room. "What's the call?"

Evan smiled. "With this guy? The grid is full. I think Zelenka's starting to double up on the bets, there's so many guys wanting in on the action. We had to make graphs for first off world panic-attack, first sparring injury, and first request to be sent home. I personally gave him two hours into his first off-world, and fifteen seconds on the mats with Ronon."

Ronon couldn't help but grin at that one. "Fifteen?"

"Sorry." Evan shrugged. "Not my fault. One, five, and ten seconds were already taken."

"Hey _Jenny_, you can come out now." John grinned and angled his head towards the crates where Jen was hiding.

When she didn't answer, they all stepped forward, and a trio of brows raised. Ronon frowned, John looked up quizzically, and Evan just grinned.

Curled up on a crate of P90's, her head pillowed on a discarded TAC vest, Jennifer was fast asleep.


	4. Chapter 4

As he walked with her back to her quarters, Ronon felt bad because they had to wake her, but sleeping next to the C4 was probably not the most comfortable position, nor the safest. She staggered a little, rubbing her eyes with her closed fists like a small child.

When they rounded the corner towards her quarters Ronon wasn't really surprised to see Brandon Hoyle lounging in the hall outside her door. In fact, he was almost looking forward to the confrontation. As brief as it was about to be.

What did surprise him was the fact that when he looked to his right, Jennifer was no longer beside him. He stepped back around the corner and instantly spotted her walking quickly in the opposite direction. In two strides he was at her side, listening to her mutter under her breath.

"I swear I'm going to strangle him. I'm a Doctor and there's that oath and all, but this time I may make an exception. I mean come on. No means, no in this galaxy too, right?" She glanced up, her head turning quickly to the hallway behind him, then anxiously back to the front. "Okay I need a better hiding spot."

"Hiding spot?" He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her towards the transporter.

"Or maybe I can volunteer to go with Dr. Portman gather more of those rutabagas." She leaned against the transporter walls, talking to the ceiling. "He said he could always use an extra set of hands. Hands. Ha!" The doors opened and she paused her quiet muttering to check the hallway before stepping through. "On the ground. In a tent. But hey, anything has to be better than sleeping in the supply closet, right?"

"You slept in the supply closet?"

She stepped forward, his hands stopping her abruptly as he spun her around and pointed her in the opposite direction.

"Or I could always ask Colonel Sheppard to send me out with the next team." She checked her watch. "There has to be someone going somewhere. Something long lasting… with fuzzy attack bunnies… or flesh eating figs… maybe a nice plague to keep me busy and quarantined off-world for a few weeks. First thing in the morning."

Continuing her whispered muttering, she moved to turn right down a hallway and Ronon grabbed her shoulders, propelling her down the left corridor. The way she was constantly stopping in front of every intersection was beginning to wear down his patience. She'd stop, he'd take a stride, then have to back track whiles she inched her nose around the corner, confirm it was empty, then dart across the opening.

"Jennifer."

"Hmm?" She answered, peering around another corner.

"What are you doing?"

"Looking for Brandon."

"He's not here."

"What?"

"Brandon."

She jumped behind him.

He rolled his shoulders. "I said he's _not_ here."

She wacked him across the back. "Don't _do_ that!"

He turned and edged her forward, his hand slicing the air to open the door to his quarters. Jennifer walked in, her head shaking as she made a beeline for his bed, kicking out of one shoe, then the other while she walked. Without pausing she stepped on the toe of her sock and yanked her foot free, repeating the motion on the other sock until both feet were bare. Her jacket landed on the floor with a soft crumple of material, followed by her pants. He watched the flash of lacy blue underwear as she crawled under his blankets and curled onto her side with a soft sigh.

"If he wakes me up again, shoot him for me, will you?"

Ronon stood in the entrance of his room, slightly stunned. Was that her pillow on his bed? Because last time he checked, he didn't own anything pink.

His eyes narrowed.

She hadn't even kissed him hello… or good night.

He folded his arms across his chest.

Brandon Hoyle was definitely going to feel some hurt for that.


	5. Chapter 5

_**Author's Note** - Sorry for the confusion._

_I messed up in posting my chapters and missed a big chunk of **chapter THREE** -- go back and re-read chapter three and you'll see a very large plot point heh.. SORRY. No more posting stories at 1am. _

_I should have also mentioned before that yes, this little tale implies Ronon/Jennifer are already together... not publicly, and it's still pretty fresh... obviously... or someone may have warned Brandon she was already otherwise occupied. :) Hopefully this chapter will clear that up. Sorry 'bout the mix up! - Nika_

* * *

Jen awoke in the middle of the night with a sharp pinching pain under her armpit. Muttering, she dug her fingers beneath her side and groaned to realize she'd fallen asleep in her bra. Struggling against the urge to just forget it and go back to sleep, she mumbled a curse and kicked her feet off the side of the bed. Stupid underwire. She reached up under the back of her shirt and unclasped it, exhaling with a contented sigh when the pressure released. Threading her hand under the sleeve of her shirt she yanked her bra strap down over her elbow and withdrew her arm. She repeated the movement on the other arm, and pulled the bra out the front of her shirt. She tossed it onto the floor with a muttered _evil contraption_ and fell over onto her side, nuzzling her pillow. _Sleepy_.

"Better?" a low throaty growl whispered in her ear.

Jen shrieked awake and flipped off the bed, landing unceremoniously on her back on the cold floor.

She'd completely forgotten she'd sort of... borrowed... Ronon's room while he was away. Then she remembered that he wasn't away any more. And then she remembered that she'd been planning to go to her own room, but Brandon was there. Again. Then she vaguely recalled Ronon bringing her back to his room, and an even fuzzier memory of crawling right into his bed like she owned the place. Yeah. Okay. So maybe that was a little forward thinking, cause technically she didn't own anything other than a really good case of embarassment right now. They'd never talked about room space... it was either her room or his depending on where they eneded up, and by morning they always eneded up back in their own rooms. Somehow it had become an unspoken expectation. Yet here she was...

"Ronon." She groaned, the embarassment heating her face.

He rested his chin on the side of the bed. "Expecting someone else?"

She dropped her head onto the floor and raised an eyebrow, suddenly feeling very silly at getting caught a little too familiar with his room. "If I was?"

He growled, pouncing off the bed like a hungry lion. A very naked lion.

"If you were…" He straddled her legs, pinning her to the floor, his upper body raised on his arms. "He'd never live to see the sun."

"You're not saying it would bother you, would it?" She pulled his dreads back from his face and knotted them behind his neck, giving her lips access to the pulse at the base of his neck. With her hands clasped around the back of his neck, she pulled her head and shoulders off the floor and pressed a light kiss to the hollow of his throat.

He growled, breaking her into body covering goosebumps.

"I hate how you do that." She murmered against his neck.

"Do what?"

"Make me shiver."

He growled again.

She trembled again.

"It bothers you?"

"No." She flushed, dropping her head back to the floor, her fingers holding firm against his shoulders.

"But?"

"But..." She hesitated.

"But what?" He prodded.

"It makes me... um... squirmy."

"Squirmy?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Squirmy." She wriggled her hips, gyrating slowly against his lower body.

"Oh."

"Oh?" She blinked up at him, the heat of his body spilling over into hers with a fury.

"You never mentioned it before."

"Sorry." She shrugged.

"Any more secrets?"

"Maybe."

He growled against the side of her neck and she arched her back with a sharp intake of breath, her hips shifting again.

"Unfair." She groaned.

"Is that a bad thing?" He lowered his upper body, resting on his elbows, his face inches from hers. She could feel his hardness pressing tightly between her thighs.

"No." She shook her head, unable to look away from the intensity of his gaze.

"You were saying something about someone else?" He dropped lower.

"Someone else?" She muttered, narrowing her eyes, a feeling of bravado sneaking up on her. "There'd better not be anyone else."

He smiled slowly. "And if there was?"

"I might be forced to hurt someone." She raised an eyebrow.

"Can't have that now can I?" He lowered his head.

"No, you can't." Jen tried to keep her face serious but it was increasingly difficult with the way he was nuzzling and sniffing the side of her neck. She laughed.

He kissed her then, his mouth soft and seeking, his hands cupping the back of her head. She shivered again, and he pulled away grinning. "I didn't say anything."

She laughed again. "Your floor's cold."

He cupped her shoulders and waist and rolled over, pulling her on top of him. Jen grinned and sat up, straddling him, her fingers splayed across his bare chest.

"Better?" He raised an eyebrow.

"Mmm." She nodded, wriggling her hips, and grinding herself against him. "Much better."

He groaned.

She laughed.

It was almost an hour before they made it back to bed.


	6. Chapter 6

"Unscheduled wormhole!"

Richard Woolsey walked out of his office and leaned on the railing overlooking the gate room floor.

"Lieutenant Davidson's IDC."

"Very well." He nodded. "Lower the shield."

Taking one look at the two figures crossing the event horizon Woolsey hurried down the stairs. "Medical team to the control room!"

Lieutenant Davidson, walking backwards and dragging the prone form of Captain Zeeman, collapsed on the floor. Richard knelt beside the two men. Zeeman was unconscious and bleeding profusely from a wound in his abdomen. Davidson had taken what appeared to be a bullet in the leg and another in the shoulder. His mouth opened and he tried to talk but Richard placed a hand on his shoulder. "It's okay, Lieutenant. We've got him."

"Hoyle." Davidson croaked, then his eyes rolled back into his head.

* * *

Jennifer stood in the gate-room, waiting for the dialing sequence to finish.

Her team had stabilized Captain Zeeman, the bullet in his stomach doing some pretty good damage. But, barring any Pegasus style complications, he should make a full, but slow, recovery. Lieutenant Davidson was sedated, stitched up, and resting comfortably. He'd managed a croaked warning that Major Gillis was back on the planet and gravely injured, before he passed out again. He was still under sedation so there was no way of knowing what they were about to walk into.

Brandon Hoyle had gone off world on a routine trade mission with Major Gillis, and hadn't returned. And Jen had a really, really bad feeling that somehow, this was going to turn out to be Brandon's fault. And if it _was_ Brandon's fault, then it was her fault for not saying anything. Which made her just as guilty, if not more so for being too much of a chicken to say anything. And now it was too late. Sheppard's team was already gone and wouldn't be back for hours yet. She could tell Evan what happened back then... but now was oh-so-not the right time.

Standing off to the side, she kept out of the way as Major Lorne's team retrieved the MALP. The area near the other side of the gate appeared clear of any hostiles, but she was ordered to wait until they gave a verbal all clear.

Five minutes later and Evan's voice gave her the okay. With a deep breath and a guilty conscience, she stepped through the gate.

The weather on the other side was blustery and damp, and Jen made a mental note to request a pair of long-johns next time she put in an order for supplies. The polyester blend uniform pants were about as warm as an ice cube tray. It was overcast and darker than it should have been for the early hour. She hoped the rain held off long enough to get to the Major, and get him back home.

It took twenty minutes to locate Major Gillis – and his condition was definitely serious. Lying face down behind a tree stump, it appeared as though someone successfully managed to stem the flow of blood from the wound in his lower back, which was definitely why he was still alive.

With Major Lorne and his team standing guard, Jen did her best to stabilize him for transport. A collapsible gurney was quickly extracted, and Gillis carefully rolled into place and firmly secured.

There was no immediate sign of Brandon. With multiple life-signs in the area, Brandon had no subcutaneous transmitter. They had no way of knowing which one was his, and no way of searching until after they got Major Gillis back to the infirmary.

The trip back to the gate was slow, but methodical. When they finally reached the windy clearing, Jen kept an eye on her patient while Evan dialed the DHD. As the event horizon stabilized, the Marines moved forward with the gurney. A muffled bang to her right made Jen stop and turn, squinting into the swaying tree branches at the edge of the clearing. She barely had time to register a second, louder popping sound before something slammed into her back and she was knocked into the tall grass.

"Stay down, Doc!" Evan ordered, his body half covering hers. "Someone's shooting at us."

"What!" Jen exclaimed, adrenaline kicking in, jolting her heart into a sporadic pounding.

"Come on." Evan crouched, his P90 firing into the trees. "Get to the gate, I'll cover you."

"What about you?" She hissed.

"Just go, Doc!"

Jen turned and was up on her knees when several more shots rang out and Evan knocked her to the ground again. This time they were facing the gate, with a perfect angle to watch the event horizon fizzle out and disappear.

"Crap." Evan muttered, staring at the silent Stargate. "That's not good."

.

.

.

_A/N ... YAY time for some Evan/Jen! More coming quickly... I promise!_


	7. Chapter 7

Evan flipped onto his back, sighting the trees with his P90 and letting a blast of rapid fire scatter bark and branches.

"Go!" He shoved Jennifer, firing several short bursts as they ran towards the opposite side of the clearing. He stayed directly behind her, doing his best to keep himself between her and the idiots with the rifles.

When they reached the far side of the clearing, he kept going, pushing her further into the undergrowth. After a healthy run through trees and over rocky ground, he grabbed the back of her knapsack and yanked her to a stop, spinning to force her down behind a fallen tree-trunk.

"Breathe." He ordered.

Okay. So far so good.

If you counted a broken DHD and no backup good.

Well, technically, he supposed, they _were_ still alive, not captured, not being tortured, not being eaten, and not dead in the grass next to the gate… so… maybe things were slightly better than good. Pretty good actually. Great by Pegasus standards.

Because, he nodded silently, he'd finally figured out the pattern.

_The woman obviously required more firepower._

The minute he'd heard it was Dr. Keller who would be accompanying them to retrieve a wounded Major Gillis, Evan returned to the Armory. He'd doubled up on clips, grabbed more C4, added a knife to each boot, and stuffed an additional revolver behind his back. Lumpy when he moved around, but functional if he needed it. He then left a cryptic message with the control room for Sheppard, to be delivered the minute the Colonel checked in.

It wasn't that he _planned_ on getting caught in the middle of the forest with an inactive Stargate and a group of supposedly unarmed, friendly farmers trying to kill him, and no backup. It was just that… well… okay who was he to argue with fate?

If some women were magnetic, Jennifer Keller was a gravitational force of planetary proportions. The woman could start a war just by showing up.

He grinned. At least her missions were never boring.

"Evan?" She asked.

He glanced towards him.

"Oh don't even start!" She ordered with a harsh whisper, pointing sharply.

"I never said anything!"

"It's written all over your face."

"What?"

She dropped her head to her knees. "God, I really, really hope this isn't my fault." She muttered.

"Sometimes Doc, I don't think you know your own power."

She lifted her head and glared at him.

He smirked.

Crouching down beside her, he withdrew the small scanner. A cluster of life-signs appeared behind them. Eleven. Eleven men. Farmers? Soldiers? Were they all armed? Were they local? There were too many unanswered questions and no way of knowing exactly what they were after.

Well, providence dictated they were after the good doctor. That… and the cries of _take the woman alive_ he'd heard just after the gate stopped working.

He almost asked for clarification. Why was he suddenly expendable? He was a nice enough guy…

The cluster of dots was rapidly approaching their position. Evan hadn't exactly been trying to hide their tracks, and with the soft muddy ground, he was pretty sure the left a trail even McKay could follow.

"How many?" Jen leaned over his shoulder.

He angled the scanner so she could see it. "Eleven."

"Who are they?" She asked.

"Welcome committee?"

"Doesn't the welcome committee visit when you arrive, not when you leave?"

"Obviously they're not very good at it." He shook his head sadly. "They didn't even bring a fruit basket."

Jen snorted.

He peered over the log and into the trees. He could easily go around and pick them off one at a time, but it would mean leaving Jennifer alone and unprotected. A chance he couldn't take. So no Plan A.

Plan B was wait for reinforcements, but until Atlantis knew what they were up against, they wouldn't be sending anyone through the Gate. That was if the gate still worked. He really hoped it was something simple, and not something catastrophic. Because a broken DHD meant the gate still worked. Usually.

He almost sighed.

Okay so A was out, and B was out, so that left Plan C. He blinked. C was _never_ the one to choose so he tossed whatever plan he might have thought up of for C and moved on to D. D was a nice safe letter.

Plan D would be to backtrack using the scanner, work their way around the bad guys towards the gate, where they could hopefully hole up somewhere until reinforcements arrived or Atlantis dialed them in.

Of course, Plan D would be taking place in the dark. He glanced around at the fading light and longer shadows.

Doable.

Definitely doable.

He nodded, then felt a cold wet splat on the side of his cheek and looked up. Another drop hit him in the forehead. Followed by two more.

Okay.

Plan D for… dark and… drippy?

He glanced over at the doctor who was giving the overhead branches a thorough frowning.

"Don't even _think_ about saying it, Major." She cursed softly, as the loud patter of rain rushed over their heads, striking the leaves and dripping down through the branches.

A hiss of static in his ear and Woolsey's voice came through.

"Major Lorne? Major Lorne, this is Richard Woolsey. What is your status?"

Evan exhaled. Communication meant the gate still worked. "Ambushed at the gate." Evan answered. "We're cut off. I believe the DHD on this end may have been damaged. We have at least eleven hostiles closing in our our position, about three clicks south of the clearing. We're going to try to double back towards the gate."

"Are you in need of any medical assistance?"

"No." Evan made a face at Jennifer. "Dr. Keller and I are both fine. We could definitely use some backup." _And umbrellas_, he mouthed at Jennifer.

She rolled her eyes.

Evan almost laughed.

"Very well. We've…"

Movement in the distance drew Evan's attention.

"Crap." He exhaled, cutting the communication off. He motioned for Jen to be quiet, and pulled her down against the ground. He sighted over the top of the trees.

Two men angled in from the left, closing in on their position. Dressed in the same garb as the others, they looked exactly like local farmers, except instead of tools they carried rifles. He frowned as they moved quietly through the trees, guns raised, listening. They didn't walk like soldiers – but they were definitely looking for something. Or someone.

When the first man reached a small rise, a distant shout echoed through the misty air and the man turned and fired. His shot was immediately followed by an answering barrage from the main group which was apparently just over the other side of the small hill. One of the newcomers dropped to the ground clutching his chest while the other ducked behind a large tree and continued to shoot in the direction of the main group.

"What's going on?" Jen whispered.

Evan stood and yanked her to her feet. "A handy distraction." He whispered. "Come on."

They moved quickly through the trees until shouts of "_over there_" accompanied another round of gunfire as bullets ripped into the trees around them.

"Atlantis!" He yelled into his com. "We could really use those reinforcements!"

"Understood, Major." Woolsey replied.

Evan cut the link and spun, shoving Jen ahead of him. "Run!"

His heart beat double time when a chunk of trunk exploded next to her head and she shrieked, diving to the ground.

"You hurt?"

"No!" She squealed when two more rounds bit off bark and branches.

"Go, go, go!" He yelled, spinning to fire off a few rounds from his P90 while she scrambled over a fallen log. Branches scraped their arms and faces as they stampeded through the undergrowth, the oncoming guns forced them deeper into the forest, and further from the Stargate.


	8. Chapter 8

_Author's Note: Okay ... let's find out just how much of a jerk Brandon Hoyle really is, shall we? _

* * *

Crouched down next to a rocky outcropping, Evan double checked the scanner. With the help of the handy little device, they'd managed to put some distance between them, and the slowly thinning crowd of gun toting potato pickers.

He'd knocked off two for sure, and was confident he'd wounded at least one more. The group had dropped back far enough to give them some maneuvering room while they started their circle back to the gate.

Which was handy because the misty rain that had been falling the entire time was finally starting to make things a little too slippery for anything other than a sliding shuffle. Plus the fact that it was now almost pitch black, they had to move carefully. Their upper bodies were almost completely soaked now, as were their legs from the knees down. And it was getting cold. He kept his eyes open for a spot they could hole up, but with the rain, and the mud, the tree trunks and rocks, there wasn't much to choose from.

He confirmed a direction, and tucked the scanner back into his wet TAC vest. Standing, he reached down to help Jen to her feet and nudged her in the right direction.

She slipped forward, using trees to haul herself up a small rise. He had to hand it to her… for someone who was probably way, way out of her element, she kept going without so much as a sigh.

"You okay?"

"I'm good." She whispered.

"You're awfully quiet."

She turned looked over her shoulder. "There's people with guns chasing us."

"Meh." He shrugged. "Perfectly normal. Just a regular occurrence 'round these parts. You got your rain… your mud… angry villagers out to kill you… people pay big bucks for this kind of adventure back home."

Jen snorted.

"So," he prompted, reaching the crest of the hill and sliding down the other side behind her. "What's the story with you and Hoyle?"

Jen made a face at him over her shoulder, but he couldn't read he expression in the dark. "Big on the loaded questions are you?"

He grinned and shrugged. "Entertain me. I'm bored."

She turned away and continued forward, but didn't immediately answer.

"Come on, Doc. I know there's a good story in there somewhere."

Jen slid in the mud, and stopped to grab a sapling to keep herself upright. "Okay." She sighed. "But you have to promise me something."

"Okay."

"No yelling."

"No… yelling?"

"Yeah." She muttered. "No yelling."

"Sounds… reasonable enough. I think. Unless you're going to regret making me promise that…"

Jen shrugged. "You asked…"

"Fine." He nodded. "No yelling. Now what am I not supposed to be yelling about?"

When she told him about her initial two days with Mr. Hollywood, Evan really had a hard time not laughing out loud. He wasn't sure why she was worried he was going to be yelling. Although laughter would be just as detrimental to their whole keep-quiet-to-avoid-detection rule. He was getting a nasty cramp in his side from trying to hold in his mirth.

"Oh come on, Doc." He snorted. "You telling me you didn't take him up on the offer?"

"You have no idea how many people ask me that…" She muttered.

"So, you said no?"

"Yep."

"Sexy movie star?"

"Yep."

"Billionaire father?"

"Yep."

"You turned him down?"

"Hourly."

"I know a few women who'd kill to be in your spot, Doc."

"Yeah well they can have him."

"Okay…" He exhaled, the urge to laugh aloud subsiding enough that he could finally get a few coherent thoughts together. "So since I'm _pretty_ sure you like guys…"

"Evan!" Jen exhaled.

"Not that there's anything wrong with liking women, or anything." He snickered. "I mean, I like women."

"Evan!" Jen turned and backhanded him across the chest.

"I'm just saying…"

"Just because I choose not to sleep with an overly full of himself, muscle headed, paranoid psychopath, who shoves doctors and pregnant women out of helicopters and who can't believe I actually mean no when I say no, that I really don't want to play any of his psychotic sex games, does not make me gay."

"Whoa, whoa, whoa." Evan grabbed her arm and pulled her to a stop. "What did you just say?"

"I'm not a lesbian?" She exhaled slowly. "Not that there's anything wrong with that. I have several acquaintances-"

"No." He interrupted. "The part about the helicopter. And the… other stuff."

"What other stuff?"

"The ah… sex games?"

"Oh. I said that out loud, huh."

He nodded.

She didn't move.

Evan tried to read her expression through the darkness but could get no bearing other than the stiffness in her body as he slowly released her upper arm.

She rubbed her eyes, then her temples, then dropped her hands with an exasperated sigh.

"When they ordered the volunteers to evacuate, Brandon went nuts. Completely nuts. Totally psychotic. A couple of the local firemen managed to get him to calm down a little, but it only lasted until the first helicopter took off without him on board."

Jen exhaled slowly, and started walking, and Evan stayed hot on her heels.

"I'd stowed the last of the gear with one of the EMT choppers, and was helping reseat an eight-months pregnant woman they'd rescued from one of the earlier slides. We were just about to take off when Brandon came out of nowhere. He yanked me right out of my seat, shoved the poor woman out on top of me, the whole time screaming about weight restrictions and how his father would sue them all if they left him there."

"He what!" Evan immediately clamped his mouth shut. Okay that was a little too loud.

Jen stopped and turned. "No yelling." She whispered harshly.

"But… I just…" He looked around, extracted the scanner, and made sure his outburst hadn't triggered another attack of the potato planters. He waited a few minutes. Okay. Still safe. He dropped the scanner back into his pocket.

_No yelling, my ass_.

"So what happened?" He exhaled with a much calmer tone. Although internally he was pretty much wanting to find the idiot playboy and shove _him_ out of a helicopter. Or a jumper. From high above the ocean. Without a life-jacket.

Jen shrugged. "Deborah, the mother-to-be, luckily landed on me, and not right on the ground. I guess I cushioned her fall somewhat. Problem was, the shock of being shoved out of an about-to-take-off helicopter due to an impending mud-slide, put her into premature labor."

"Shit." Evan muttered.

"Yeah." Jen shook her head. "I ended up delivering the baby on the floor of a news helicopter we convinced to pick us up if they could tape the story. She gave birth between the camera man and the audio guy… who threw up the minute the afterbirth came out." Jen giggled. "It was a media event for several days. She was quite the celebrity."

"Okay…" Evan shook his head. "So what happened to Hoyle?"

"Oh he got his ride home, sedated and trussed up like a thanksgiving turkey, seated between two burly volunteer firefighters who threatened to toss him out should he utter a single word."

"And he's still…"

"Yep. Still famous. Still a playboy. Still making movies. Still on the cover of all the magazines. All because no one knows about it." Jen shrugged. "Senator Hoyle made sure Deborah and her new baby would never have to work a day in either of their lives again if she signed a non-disclosure agreement. The other people in the helicopter got a nice bonus, and because I refused the money, I was told if I ever tried to tell anyone, he'd see to it I never worked in medicine again."

"He threatened you?" Evan clamped his mouth shut when Jen glared at him again. "Right, right. No yelling. But fuck. He threatened you?"

She shrugged. "What could I do? Dad's pension sucks. Most of what I made then, went directly to keep the house. I couldn't afford a lawsuit, or the fiasco that would be me trying to go up against sexy-heartthrob Brandon Hoyle or his US Senator daddy."

A sudden thought occurred to Evan and he grabbed her backpack strap and yanked her to a stop. "Wait. He's not _still_ threatening you is he? Because if he is-"

"No." She shook her head. "He's not… well… I'm not sure. I mean… I've been avoiding him like a plague. I haven't been alone with him… I don't think he is… But then again… Oh crap. What if he is? What if-"

"Relax Doc. No one's going to be threatening anyone on my watch."

Jen exhaled. Then inhaled. Then exhaled again. "I just… It just never occurred to me he could be trying to bring that up again. I mean… I though for sure he was just trying to get me to…" She trailed off.

"Get you to what?"

She turned and kept walking.

He grabbed her knapsack, stopping her.

"Get you to what?" He repeated. "Sleep with him?" When she didn't answer, he pulled her under the overhang of a large, leafy giant. Something in her stiff stature caught his eye and he hesitated to ask. "That's it isn't it? Guy like that's probably not used to women saying no, huh."

Jen looked away, and Evan knew for a fact she'd be blushing bright red.

"That's part of it." She mumbled.

"Why do I get the feeling I'm not going to like the _other_ part?"

She shrugged, wiping a large drop of rain off her forehead. She opened her mouth, closed it, then opened it again. She sighed. "I'm pretty sure you're not going to like it, either."

"S'okay, Doc." He gave her a half smile. "I'm a good listener. Just you, me, and a lot of wet trees. I'm good at keeping secrets. Military rules and all."

Jen blinked and looked away. "I'm pretty good at keeping secrets myself, Major. And that's part of the problem. I really, really should have told someone."

"Told someone what? That Brandon's a crackpot and his daddy's a bully?" A knotted twist slowly formed in the pit of his empty stomach. _Please let that be all it was… _

She shook her head. "Yes… and no. I just… I mean… Evan you have no idea what this guy does for kicks."

"Then you need to tell me. Before we find him."

Jen stared at him for a few minutes, and he knew she was arguing with herself.

"Doc, if the guy's trouble, don't you think we should know about it before we release him back into the city?"

Jen stopped and turned towards him. "Yeah." She clenched her hands into fists then released them. "Yeah. You're right. You're completely right." She nodded to herself, more than him. "Okay. But no yelling."

He held up his hands. "No yelling."

As they continued their muddy trek through the dark woods, Jennifer finished her story, and Evan soon decided he needed to watch what he promised.


	9. Chapter 9

"Brandon stages his dates." Jen slipped on a slick rock and Evan grabbed her arm to keep her from tumbling into the narrow gully they were currently following.

"He _whats_ his dates?"

"Stages them."

He shrugged when she glanced over.

"Have you ever seen any of his movies?" She asked.

"Unfortunately."

"So you probably know his movies usually follow the same pattern."

"Buff hero saves chesty babe from certain peril?"

Jen snorted. "That about covers it." She shook her head. "Well his dates follow the same pattern."

"Buff hero saves chesty babe from…"

"Certain peril."

"Okay I'm lost."

"I'm aware of that." Jen looked around at the trees.

"Why Doctor Keller, did you just crack a joke?"

Jen stuck out her tongue.

Evan laughed. "Okay so back to the dating…"

"Brandon gets off on the big rescue. He hires local actors to set up scenes from his movies, and throws his dates into the scene."

Evan figured his semi confused state must have reflected on his face because Jen stopped with an exasperated sigh.

"Okay." She continued, shrugging out of her knapsack and rolling her neck. "Have you ever seen the one where his car breaks down in the middle of nowhere, and he and his girlfriend walk to this biker bar to find a phone, and he leaves her there while he gets a ride back with a tow-truck driver?"

Evan squinted, picking up her knapsack and looping it over his shoulders. "Yeah I think so, actually. The bikers attack the girlfriend and one of them kidnaps her and Brandon goes all commando to get her back?"

"That's the one."

"Horrible movie."

"Yes, well, bad acting aside, you remember the general plot?"

"Sure. What's that got to do with his dates?"

Jen sighed. "A month after the whole helicopter fiasco, Brandon called me. He said he wanted to apologize, and could he buy me dinner. And before you say it… I told him to get lost. But he… hinted that it might be in my best interest, dropped Daddy's name, and I caved. I couldn't chance any legal action if he wanted to go after it... and I caved." She threw her hands up in disgust.

"So you went for dinner."

"Ha." Jen rolled her eyes. "Dinner turned out to be a two-hour drive out of the city on the back roads. We get a few minutes past this run-down gas station and tavern when his car kicks out and just dies right there on the side of the highway. So we walked back to the bar to find a phone."

"Uh-huh."

"So thirty minutes later we get into this bar, and I'm telling you Ev, it was straight out of the movies. It was… disgusting. Dirty. Dusty. No windows. The three guys playing pool looked like they could crush a cue ball just by looking at it. He chats to the bartender, and wouldn't-ya-know-it there's a tow truck driver sitting in the back booth. So Brandon suggests I hang out in the air-conditioning while he goes back to check out the car."

"Just like the movie?"

"Right." Jen nods. "And if I'd seen the movie before the road-trip, I might have walked right out the door. But I hadn't. And I didn't. And he left."

"So he left you in a…"

"Dive bar."

"While he went back for the car."

"Yep."

"Why do I have a feeling I'm not going to like the _and then _you're about to add to this story?"

"And then…" She nodded. "I pick what I thought was the cleanest seat at the bar and waited. Brandon was barely gone five minutes when… When…" She trailed off.

Evan wasn't really sure he wanted to know what happened after the _when_.

"When the bartender went into the back leaving me alone with the biker boys." She shook her head, and wrapped her arms around her torso with a shudder. "I mean, jeeze, Evan. They scared the hell out of me. I had no idea they were actors."

"Actors?" He managed to comment.

"They thought I knew what was going on." She shook her head. "They thought I was… into being mauled and pawed."

"Whoa, whoa." Evan stepped closer. "They what?"

"I was supposed to be the girlfriend from the movie, remember? Brandon set it all up so he... they... _we_ could all act out the tavern scene from the movie."

"The tavern scene. You mean the part where the girl get's..."

She nodded.

"Jesus, Doc." He whispered, his stomach rolling over. "Brandon hired them to… you mean they… they…" God he couldn't even say the word.

"No!" Jen exclaimed. "No. No. They weren't hired to go that far."

Evan felt the tension slipping slightly – very slightly.

"But I didn't know that."

Evan's tension slid right back up and rolled into a big ball of anger.

"Then what _were_ they hired for?"

"To _pretend…_ they were going to... you know..."

"Fuck!"

Jen slapped her hand over his mouth. "No yelling!" She hissed, quickly removing her fingers.

Evan shook his head. "Did they hurt you?"

"They thought I was acting, too."

"Did. They. Hurt you?" He asked, each word clipped and short.

She shook her head and shrugged. "Just a few bruises on my wrists and my back from being shoved up onto the bar."

"Fuck." He spat again. "How far did they… I mean…" Evan rubbed his face. "I'm going to kill him."

"They had some pre-arranged cue. I don't know, maybe it was me screaming my damned head off, but Brandon rushed in, threw some punches, and dragged me outside."

"Fuck." Evan repeated, cursing his lack of verbal control. "So…"

"So he tossed me into the car, drove like a madman, stopped at a hotel, which he somehow managed to already have a room reserved at… and the room key already in his hand… and rushed me inside to offer me… comfort."

Evan had absolutely no comment that didn't involve loud amounts of swearing. So he held it in.

"And who knows. It might…" She shook her head. "Might have worked, if I hadn't already figured out there was something very fishy about his fist fight."

"Fishy."

"Not one of the guys he hit, or who hit him back, bled."

"Bled."

"I kept trying to check him out, make sure he was okay, that he wasn't injured. That we didn't need to get to a hospital. I mean… I thought it was real for God's sake. I was a mess! I couldn't think straight. But I know trauma. And I know what to do with injuries. So I totally defaulted. And the more I looked at him, the more I noticed he didn't have a speck of blood on him. Not one single scratch. Not on his face, his arms, his knuckles. Nothing. I've treated a hell of a lot of bar-room injuries, black eyes, broken noses and split knuckles and there was no way they could have fought like that without anyone splitting a lip. So I called him on it."

"You called him on it."

"He admitted it."

"Admitted it."

"He staged the whole thing. The car. The bar. The bikers. He thought I'd be into it. Told me they were just hired actors. Apparently _all_ the girls love it. Makes for amazing sex, Jenny." She mimicked Brandon's low drawl. Then she shrugged. "There was no fight. And no blood. So… I gave him some."

"Gave him some?"

"Blood."

"Blood."

"You realize you're just repeating everything I say, right?"

"Right." Evan nodded. Then he let out a long, harsh lungful of air and rotated his neck, cracking the bones. "So you…"

"I broke his nose." She shrugged. "Hit him with the bible they leave on the nightstand." She glanced up. "I didn't get struck by lightning when I took his car keys and left, so I figured it must have been acceptable on some cosmic level. Although now I wonder if all this is just payback for that little transgression."

Evan took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, his right hand rubbing his temple.

"And that's… well… that's it." She shrugged, her voice quiet.

"That's it? That's… I think that's… I don't care who his Daddy is or how much money he's paid to be here. He's getting the hell out of my city."

There was no way Brandon Hoyle was going to be allowed to stay on Atlantis in one piece. Hell there was no way the piece of trash was going to make it back to the city alive either. Especially with the way Jen's shoulders dropped with relief at his words. The guy obviously had her completely worried he was going to pull something again. No wonder she'd been running from him since he arrived.

Evan had absolutely no idea how he was going to sort this all out in his own mind, much less explain to anyone else why he was about to beat the crap out of Brandon Hoyle. Or how he was going to convince everyone else that he got first dibs. Because technically, Evan supposed, Ronon would be first in line. The Doc probably didn't know Evan knew… but Evan had a pretty good idea that Ronon's attitude towards the Doc went way past the comraderie starge… and protocol on that front made it all the more difficult to step up and take the first swing if that was someone else's first right of refusal. And Evan knew there was no way Ronon was going to refuse. And no way Evan wasn't going to tell him at least part of the story. But if Ronon got there first, there'd be nothing left for Evan. And Evan really, really wanted to give Brandon Hoyle a world of hurt right now.

He shook himself back into the present. First things first. "Come on." He pulled out the scanner and did a quick double check. "Let's get back to the gate. We'll deal with Mr. Hollywood later."

Jen nodded.

"Doc?" Evan called and she stopped and turned.

"I'm… Thank you for telling me."

Jen nodded. "I've never told anyone before."

"I know." He stepped up beside her. "I know." He edged her forward and they continued their hike beneath the thick trees and the misty rain.

While they walked Evan replayed her speech.

"Fuck." He muttered again, earning him a harsh shhh from in front.

Evan smiled into the darkness.

But his eyes were cold.

Brandon Hoyle was definitely going to discover just what kind of damage a Flyboy's fist could do to a pretty-boy's face.


	10. Chapter 10

Evan's conscious mind returned slowly and painfully, with a splitting headache and Sheppard's voice in his ear. He tried to move his arms to reach his com but his body wasn't responding. He forced his eyes to open yet could see nothing but dirt.

Dark. Wet. Dirt.

He blinked again.

_Damn it Sheppard, just give me a minute. _

With a deep groan he rolled onto his right side, the answering pounding in his skull kicking up the drum beat. Several deep breaths and he could now remember where he was and why his skull was cracking. Gillis. Gate. Ambush. Jennifer.

_Shit_.

"Doc?" He croaked, splitting the silence of the forest.

No answer.

"Doc?" He struggled to sit up, the last few minutes of his memory returning in chunks.

They'd continued on for a good hour before the increased rain turned the pathways to mud-slick slides and they'd tumbled down an embankment. Jennifer had landed hard on her side against a tree stump, clutching her ribs in pain. He'd bent to help her up. She squeaked out a warning. The world exploded.

Evan had no idea how long he'd been out. He was completely soaked, and lying in one hell of a wet pile of mud, but thankfully the rain wasn't plastering him with a cold shower at the moment. The front of his body ached and he realized the painful tingling in his right arm was due to the fact that he'd been lying on his arm… and his P90. Odd that he'd been left with his weapon. He glanced down at his still-there sidearm. Weapons. Plural. And the weight on his back told him he still had her knapsack.

He did his best to look around, but could see no sign of her.

A few more deep breaths and he willed his right arm to move. He connected with his ear and managed to croak out a response.

"Major? Major Lorne? Is that you? Evan? Do you copy?"

"Ouch." Evan muttered, wincing as his fingers touched a very sore, very raw lump over his ear.

"Ouch?" Sheppard responded.

"Yeah." Evan croaked. "Ouch."

"Talk to me, Major."

"Ambushed." Evan muttered. "I think they got Dr. Keller."

Sheppard cursed. "We were afraid of something like that. Your transmitters are several clicks apart."

Evan groaned and tried to sit up, taking several deep breaths before he made it upright. The world spun left, then right, then settled into a steady pulse. He was really quite glad it was dark out because light right about now would really, really hurt. He cursed.

"You don't sound very healthy, Major."

"I'm okay." Evan muttered. "I think someone tried to decapitate me with a tree branch."

"Vivid."

"Painful." Evan answered. "I'll live. Find the Doc."

"Are you alone, Major?"

Evan glanced slowly around. "As far as I know."

"Then I guess you're first up. Dr. Keller's signal is surrounded by a host of others. That means we're right above your position."

Evan looked up just as the survey lights from the bottom of the uncloaking jumper blasted through the leaves.

"Ow." He squinted and squeezed his eyes shut. "A little warning next time?"

The lights flickered off. "Hang in their, Major, we're just going to go find ourselves a parking space."

Evan fumbled with one of his vest pockets, and managed, with some work, to rip open a blister pack of painkillers and dry swallow the small pills. He slumped back down onto the ground. "No worries, sir." He muttered, closing his eyes again. "I'll just kick back and enjoy the sunshine."

"You do that. Oh, and Major?"

"Hmm?"

"Thanks for the memo."

Evan laughed, winced, then groaned.

* * *

Ronon stood back while Teyla bent to check the major. The minute her hand touched his chest Evan jerked up, his service revolver aimed directly at Teyla's chest.

"Whoa, whoa." Sheppard squatted besid him. "Easy Major."

Evan dropped the gun, and his head back onto the ground. "Sorry."

"It is all right, Major." Teyla nodded, helping Evan sit up.

Ronon searched the trees, but he knew without looking she wasn't here. It wasn't just her transmitter… it was her essence. He couldn't feel her. Damn it, he couldn't feel her. He shifted his weight, his agitation growing. He worked to calm it. To keep himself on target.

McKay and Teyla helped Evan to his feet and they moved quickly back to their landing site. By the time they reached the cloaked ship, Evan was walking on his own, although with a few crooked steps.

The Major filled them in on the ambush, the group of farmers following them, the pair that intercepted, Jennifer's fall and his head wound.

Ronon's gut twisted knowing she was out there somewhere... held captive... alone... unprotected... and injured. They moved quickly, returning to the cloaked jumper. Ronon stood between the two sections, too tense to sit. Sheppard had the jumper in the air before the back half of the hatch finished closing.

"How's Davidson and Zeeman?" Evan asked, wincing as Teyla attempted to clean the blood off the side of his head.

"Stable." John answered. "Both should make a full recovery."

"Good." Evan nodded his thanks to Teyla, who folded a instant ice pack and placed it on the side of his head. Reaching up, he held the cold pack to the lump behind his ear and stood, moving towards the front of the jumper.

Ronon stepped aside to allow the Major to slide into the co-pilot's seat.

"Were either of them able to say anything more about what happened?" Evan asked Sheppard.

"No, nothing."

"Damn." Evan muttered.

"There." Rodney activated the HUD and pointed to the clusters dots. "Transmitter." One blinked a brighter red against the dull blue.

Ronon felt his body tense at the location of the red dot, fully surrounded by various clusters of blue.

Sheppard lowered the cloaked jumper, skimming over the top of the trees, then holding them in a low hover over a small village. Buildings were two and three levels high, various sizes and shapes. Torches threw pools of light and long shadows across a stone square in the middle of the town. There were roughly two dozen buildings, and well over fifty life-signs.

A few sentries, rifles slung over their shoulders or cradled in their arms, moved through the town. Some were visible along the edge of the houses, but for the most part, the village seemed to be quieted down for the night. Most of the life signs were stationary, including Jennifer's.

Several other life-signs moved in pairs through the forest, at spaced intervals circling the town.

"Sentries?" Evan nodded.

"Most likely." John agreed.

John hovered over a large copse of trees, a two story building visible through the branches. Scanners showed Jennifer was inside somewhere near the middle of the second floor. Several sentries guarded the outside, and several life-signs were also present inside the building.

Ronon memorized her placement, the layout of the sentries, and as much of the layout of the town as he could see in the darkness. She wasn't moving – but neither were the others.

He held to that.

Sheppard expanded the scanners, and a small cluster appeared to their right, the direction and motion moving them towards the village.

"Your friends?" Sheppard asked Lorne.

"Could be." Evan nodded. "The blob of dots looks vaguely familiar."

"Maybe you'd like to ask them a few questions?"

Evan smiled. "I'd love too."

John raised the jumper, and moved to find them a safe landing spot.

Ronon breathed, slowly in, then out. He centered himself and concentrated on his task.

Getting Jennifer back.


	11. Chapter 11

_Author's Note: A couple of people have asked about Evan's status - Major Lorne is an Air Force Major. He served with Stargate Command before coming to Atlantis, and he is also an accomplished pilot and was also his squadron's leader. He's a Flyboy. :P Also, apologies for the long chapter... there's a lot of conversation happening here! :) And a huge thank you to everyone's reviews and comments and questions! If I missed a reply, my apologies! - Nika_

* * *

Jen's wrists hurt from their awkward angle, her ribs reminding her of their bruised state every time she tried to adjust her position. Her lips were too dry and her tongue couldn't reach them through the tightly wadded material gagging her mouth.

She concentrated on keeping her heartbeat down to a reasonable rate. Panic wouldn't help her now. Wouldn't help Evan.

God, Evan. She felt her heart skitter again. He'd gone down hard. She'd tried to get to him but the other man grabbed her from behind. He'd covered her head with some kind of musty, grainy sack, and her hands had been quickly bound. She'd lost track of how long she'd been slung over his shoulder, carried like a bag of feed corn, the pain in her ribs leaving her half passed out.

And she had no idea where she was now, or where Evan was. She needed to get back there. She needed to get the hell… out… of… here!

She yanked madly on the restraints as each word echoed through her brain, but all she got was a cramp in her shoulder, and a stabbing pain through her left side.

With a soft sob she let her head drop back onto the pillowless bed.

She'd been deposited onto a mattress, her hands still bound tightly behind her back. They'd removed the hood, and had promptly confiscated her radio, and her shoes.

The man who'd carried her knifed the rope around her wrists and her arms protested at sudden the release. He watched her warily, warning her not to try anything stupid. He stepped into the hallway, and admitted a skittish young woman with a very shaky revolver in her hand. The woman requested Jen's wet clothes, handing her a long dry shift to put on instead.

Jen wasn't about to change… but the woman insisted… and Jen wasn't so sure she trusted the trembling trigger finger aimed in her direction. So she changed.

Then the man returned and with the help of the wiggling revolver, Jen let herself be bound to the bedrail with orders to get some sleep.

Sleep.

He'd actually suggested she get some sleep?

There was no way she was going to close her eyes.

She kicked her feet up and tried to push herself higher up on the bed. With a deep breath, she concentrated on holding her injured left side steady while she worked the ropes on her right wrist.

* * *

Ronon stood under the trees, the shadows watching over him as he waited. He would have preferred silence, but McKay's chatter was preventing it.

The branches across the clearing broke and Sheppard and Teyla stepped into the open. They had snagged a straggler off the group moving towards the village, and dragged a skinny man - no, Ronon changed his mind as he got closer – a boy, between them.

The child was young. Too young to be carrying the long rifle Teyla dropped onto the ground next to the Jumper. Sheppard let go of the back of the child's shirt, earning him a frowning from Teyla. The boy shook himself and did his best to pout… or perhaps glower… Ronon wasn't sure which. It would have been otherwise humorous if not for the situation.

Evan, who'd been keeping watch on the opposite side, stepped into the clearing from the corner, and Rodney exited the back of the still cloaked Jumper. The group formed a circle around the boy, who had to tilt his head way back to look up at Ronon.

"It's a little late to be out wandering around in the woods, kid." Evan frowned.

"I don't have to talk to you. You're friends with the Malusians." The boy shook his head, his voice still high with childhood, and his lanky young frame. He crossed his arms and huffed. He was young enough not to know he should be afraid of a group of soldiers, Ronon thought, and still cocky with the innocence of childhood.

"We do not have any affiliations." Teyla smiled at the boy. "We are only looking for our friends. Perhaps you can help us find them?"

"I saw him." The boy pointed his chin at Evan. "He came from the Malusians side of the ring. No one comes from the Malusians side of the ring unless they are friends with the Malusians." His voice was very matter of fact.

"And you are not Malusian?" Teyla asked softly.

The boy spit on the ground. "I am Freenan. We hate the Malusians. They steal from us. We steal it back. They eat dirt and are covered in nasty warts."

"Look kid." John rolled his eyes. "We're just trying to find out friend. A woman. Dressed like we are."

"He's not dressed like you are." The boy looked at Ronon.

"Yeah well, he's not from around here." John muttered.

"Technically we're not from around here." Rodney offered.

John ignored him, and re-asked his question, this time with more force. "Have you seen her?"

The boy shook his head.

John swore.

"What are you doing out here this late at night?" Teyla glared at Sheppard, but kept her voice calm.

"We're raiding the village." He nodded, a proud smile on his lips.

"Raiding the… Malusian village?" Teyla prompted.

"Usually we only raid once a month but tonight is special."

"Special?"

He nodded furiously. "The Malusians have a great treasure worth much. We will bring the treasure back to _our_ village."

"Treasure." McKay snorted. "Right."

"You are raiding the village for a treasure." Teyla confirmed.

"Yep." The boy nodded, suddenly excited about the prospect of treasure. "I over heard my uncle talking in the tavern about treasure and uncle said it would make us rich to have and uncle talked to the others and they said they would raid tonight to get it but then uncle saw him-" he glared at Evan. "and said the Malusians hired people to keep the treasure from someone else and we'd have to be quick to steal it away and he organized the hunting party and I followed because they wouldn't let me go because I wasn't supposed to be in the tavern but I'm big enough now and I'll help get the treasure back for our village."

"Did anyone hear him breathe in there anywhere?" Rodney asked.

Ronon was watching Evan's expression as the child spoke. The Major was frowning, the lines of his jaw hard as he clenched his teeth.

"How did your uncle know about the treasure?"

Everyone turned towards Lorne.

"A traveler came to see my uncle."

"What did he look like?" Evan asked, stepping forward.

The boy shrugged. "He was tall. Like you. But not tall like him." He pointed at Ronon.

"What color was his hair?" Evan continued.

The boy looked around at the group. He pointed at Sheppard. "It was messy like his. Longer. But not dark."

"My hair's not messy." John muttered, running a hand across his head.

"Do you _own_ a mirror?" Rodney stared at Sheppard incredulously.

"And this traveler told your uncle about the treasure?" Evan leaned closer.

The boy nodded. "He said he would help us get it back."

"Is he with your uncle's raiding party? Is he with the other group?"

The boy nodded. "He will help us get the treasure back."

"Something you want to share, Major?" Sheppard asked, watching Lorne.

"Did you hear anyone say exactly what the _treasure_ was?"

The boy shook his head.

"Did you hear the man's name?" Lorne persued.

Eyes moved from Evan, to the boy, back to Evan, then back to the boy.

The child nodded then smiled. "Mart."

"Mark?"

"Yes!" He nodded quickly. "Mark."

"Fuck." Evan swore. "Hoyle. I knew it. I'm going to shoot the bastard. Right after I beat the living shit out of him." He turned, took two steps, then turned back towards the group.

"Major?" John angled his head. "Maybe you should go sit down."

Ronon was beginning to wonder just how hard the Major hit his head.

"God damn it!" Evan cursed. "He set this whole thing up."

"Who did?" John asked.

"Hoyle." Evan spat.

"The actor?" Rodney questioned.

"Yes, the actor. The disgusting, perverted, dead-when-I-get-my-hands-on-him actor."

"I thought his name was… Brandon?" Teyla shook her head, confused.

"It is." Evan nodded. "Mark's the name of his character."

"His… character?" Teyla raised an eyebrow.

"From the movie. His character from the movie." Evan nodded.

Ronon dodged to the side and snagged the back of the boy's shirt. The child was attempting to sneak away during the distracted conversation. He held the boy beside him and attempted to make sense of what the hell the Major was talking about.

"He staged this. Hoyle. He's staging the raid."

"He's staging a raid?" John looked quizzically at the Major.

"I believed her. I did. But I never realized just how far the maniac would actually go." Evan shook his head, incredulously.

"Believed who?" John asked.

"The Doc."

"Keller staged the raid?" Rodney frowned.

"No." Evan spat, exasperated. "Hoyle did. Is."

"And you know this how?" John asked.

"The Doc told me."

"She told you he'd stage the raid?" Rodney raised an eyebrow.

"No, she told me what he'd done to her before."

"_What_ did he do to her before?" Ronon growled.

Evan looked at Ronon, and Ronon saw the hardness in the Major's eyes. "Hoyle gets off on acting out his movie scenes in real life. He thinks it's a great way to get into a woman's pants. And he's pissed because the Doc said no. More than once."

"He wants Jennifer's pants?" Teyla frowned.

"No." Rodney shook his head. "He wants to get in to women's pants. In… as in…" he leaned closer and whispered "sex".

"Oh." Teyla nodded slowly, her brows furrowed as she stared at Rodney. "Hoyle wants Jennifer's… Oh. I see."

Ronon growled.

Rodney nodded knowingly.

As succinctly as possible, Evan explained Jennifer's date with Hoyle. Ronon did not know the movie, but he judged by the look on McKay's face that the scientist did. When Evan mentioned a tavern, Rodney's face blanched, but Evan did not expand on it. Ronon had a very, very bad feeling he was not going to like knowing what happened to Jennifer in this tavern, and that the Major wasn't about to tell them all here and now.

"Please tell me you've seen _Treasure of Marcos_?" Evan looked from John to Rodney.

Sheppard shook his head.

Evan zeroed in on Rodney, who had a slightly sheepish expression.

"You _have_ seen it." Evan glared at him accusingly.

"Nope." Rodney shook his head. "Never saw it. The guy's a horrible actor… why would I watch such a piece of drabble. I mean, come on… no one could shoot that many people and live… well, except maybe Goliath here…" Everyone turned towards him and he threw his arms up in the air. "Okay fine. Yes. I've seen it. I was curious about what the big deal was. The guy can't act worth crap and the women are all over him!"

Evan stepped in front of McKay. "Two villages, regular raiding parties. One village kidnaps the geologist thinking she'll help them find a mysterious treasure."

"Yes, yes." Rodney shrugged. "The plot wasn't very believable."

Evan shook his head and pointed to the boy. "Two villages. Raiding party. Kidnapping of a female scientist?"

"Yeah." Rodney shrugged. "Our hero steps in, convinces the other village to steal the treasure, then he double crosses them and goes after the girl but I don't see what this has to do with Hoyle?"

"And you have how many PhD's?"

"Now just a minute…" Rodney muttered.

"We're wasting time!" Ronon growled.

"Agreed." John looked pointedly at Evan.

"Just… wait." Evan held up his hands. "Hoyle is setting up this raid so he can get to the Doc."

"Hoyle's going to rescue her?" Rodney laughed. "You really did hit your head. They guys a chicken shit. You should have seen how fast her ran for the bathroom the minute Zelenka explained what a Wraith did to the human body."

"He's acting." Evan shook his head. "He's pretending this is the movie. He thinks he's going to get the girl and she's going to be so grateful he rescued her she'll be all over him with gratitude."

"Oh please." Rodney muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. "That never happens in real life. I'd be covered in happily willing females for the amount of universal life saving I've done."

"Yes well tell that to Jennifer." Evan shook his head.

And what he said next had them all in shocked silence. When Evan finished, Ronon couldn't stop himself from pacing. It took Sheppard's hand on his wrist to realize he'd been spinning his gun. He dropped it into its holster but kept his hand on it. The reassuring feel of the hilt in his hand calming him for the task at hand. It took every ounce of willpower he possessed to keep himself from chasing the man down and killing him with his bare hands. Brandon Hoyle would not leave this planet alive.

"She didn't know?" Rodney squeaked.

"No." Evan shook his head.

"He hired them to…" Sheppard looked at Evan with a mix of horror and disgust.

"Yes." Evan nodded.

"And she had _no_ idea…" John trailed off.

"None." Evan shook his head.

"So she thought…" Rodney looked aghast.

"Yes." Evan answered.

"I believe I would like to meet this Brandon Hoyle." Teyla frowned, her expression hard.

"Stand in line." John muttered. "So you think he's using this… to… it's a little extreme don't you think?"

Evan shook his head. "As far as I can tell, the guy's a complete crackpot. Who knows how far he'd go? It's not like we haven't met worse?"

"Point taken." John nodded.

Rodney pointed at the boy. "The two villages, with the raiding back and forth."

"Right." Evan nodded.

"The talk of treasure." Rodney pursed his lips. "Keller would be the geologist… but I don't get how she's supposed to help them find any treasure."

"There _is_ no treasure." Evan shook his head. "Hoyle made it up. He's setting them up so he can get into the town protected by a raiding party. He's going to go in and try to get her himself."

"But this isn't a movie." Rodney shook his head. "What happens when…"

"When he figures out the guns are real? The bullets are real? That real people are dying?" Evan shrugged. "That's what I'm afraid of. The guys going to snap and probably get himself killed."

"Or get Keller killed." John muttered, shaking his head. "We'll use the raid as a distraction, and go get her ourselves."

"How long before they reach the village?" Evan turned towards the boy.

"We will attack an hour before the sun crests, as always." He nodded happily, glancing around the circle of adults.

John checked his watch. "Let's move."

They headed towards the trees, the boy happily accompanying them.

"Major?" Rodney hurried to catch up to Evan. "Why would Hoyle pick this particular movie for his little… excursion."

Evan shrugged as they moved under the branches. "How the hell should I know? Maybe because he already had two villages that fit the plot. Sounds like these guys have been at it for a while. Why?"

"Well, if the whole goal is to rescue the girl…"

"It is." Evan nodded.

"How long ago did you see the movie?" Rodney prompted.

"A couple of years ago, why."

"Well, I was just thinking… about the ending and all."

"The ending?"

"Yeah. It's not a great choice if the goal is to get the girl in the end."

"Why not?" Evan glanced at McKay, the odd look on the scientists face making him stop. "I don't remember what happened."

"Well…" Rodney shrugged. "She dies."

Everyone stopped.

"What?" Ronon growled.

"The geologist dies in the end." Rodney looked from Ronon to Evan. "Get's shot trying to shield the hero. Big tear jerker. The last scene before the credits is the guy-"

"Carrying her through the middle of town while she dies in his arms." Evan exhaled. "Fuck."

"You don't think…" Rodney shook his head. "He wouldn't… go that far would he? I mean… Just how mad is he that she turned him down? Or that she tried to ruin his career? Or that she couldn't be bought out? Would he… He couldn't, could he?"

Everyone stared directly at Evan.

And Evan stared directly at Ronon.

Ronon's eyes shifted to John.

Sheppard cursed as he nodded at the Satedan. "Go!"


	12. Chapter 12

_Author's Note: The next two chapters are short... but they're plotty... :P More coming ASAP! Apologies for any typo's (as always)! - Nika_

* * *

With a gasp of relief Jen slid her fingers out from between the tight loops of rough rope, and she was pretty sure the only thing that allowed her to finally pull them free was the added slickness of the blood. The skin around her wrist was now raw and painful but she ignored it.

Sliding off the bed, she stood on trembling legs and allowed her left arm to relax, pain aching through her injured side while she broke fingernails trying to work her left hand free of it's rope.

A few moments later and she stood unbound beside the bed.

She couldn't stay here. She needed to leave. To find her way back to the gate. She had to get help and get back to find Evan. With no radio, she couldn't contact Atlantis or anyone who might be coming to their rescue.

As quietly as she could, she searched the tiny room, looking for anything she could use as a weapon, or a means of escape, but aside from an old blanket, and several empty dresser drawers, there was nothing there. When a floorboard creaked beneath her feet, she froze in place, praying it went undetected. After a few moments of heart slamming tension, she released the breath she'd been holding and moved towards the small window. Pulling it open, she looked out into the dark night. She was on the second floor, the ground comfortingly close, yet frighteningly far away. She turned and looked back into the room. The door would be easier… but she had no idea who, or what, was on the other side. She looked out the widow. It was at least ten feet. If she could get herself out so she was hanging… the drop would be five feet.

Five feet vs. the unknown?

She leaned out the window and looked closer. A few feet below her window was the top frame of the first floor window. She could see no evidence of light from the room below, but that didn't mean there wasn't someone watching from inside. If she dropped directly in front of it, she could be seen.

Maybe if she could get her feet down there, she could jump to the side?

Jen hiked up flimsy little nightgown, wishing they hadn't given her something so blatantly white to wear. The damn thing was going to stick out like a beacon if anyone was watching.

She looked at the ground. Then looked at the door.

With a deep breath, she pulled herself up into the window, sticking her leg out over the sill. It took a little maneuvering, and a few cursed gasps as she twisted her ribs the wrong way, but she slowly pushed herself around so she was laying half in, half out the narrow frame. Wriggling her hips, she dropped until her armpits were resting on the sill, and decided it was now too late to change her mind. She inched back… her fingers gripping the sill, side protesting with a sharp stabbing pain, her injured wrist burning.

Her bare feet scrambled to find the ledge of the window below, and she lowered herself slowly hoping she'd hit it before she lost her balance and fell.

With a curse she dropped, her entire weight now hanging off her arms. Her toes finally found a lumpy ridge and she sent up a silent _yes_ to the powers that be, and anyone else who might be listening. She looked over her shoulder, and prayed the ground would be soft. Softer than hard packed dirt. Maybe the earlier rain would have helped?

Oh… crap. This was so going to leave a mark.

She eyed the ground to the left of the window. Taking a deep breath, she momentarily lost her never and exhaled shakily. Another deep breath, a prayer for strength, and she half fell, half jumped to the side.

The first shot rang out before her bare feet hit the wet ground.


	13. Chapter 13

Jen lay in the cold, wet mud, the agonizing throbbing in her side leaving her gasping for breath. She squeezed her eyes shut and waited for the pain that might come with getting shot.

The sound of rifle fire continued, short bursts and single shots cutting the darkness.

She blinked her eyes open and quickly looked around.

It wasn't near her directly.

But it was close.

Taking a deep breath, Jen rolled over, and crawled as quickly as she could towards the edge of the building, pressing herself into the rough wooden surface.

She could now hear shouts accompanying the gunfire, orders to watch the trees, and shouts of _raid_ echoing through the village. Men ran from building to building, answering shouts from rooftops and doorways.

Peering around the edge of the building, Jen could see down the main corridor of a village, buildings lining a central courtyard. Torches reflecting yellowed pools of light as men rushed around, with rifles and handguns, shooting into the shadows behind the buildings to the right.

Answering gunfire echoed and she watched one man fall, her brain kicking in to doctor gear and demanding she run to help him, but her heart knowing she couldn't just fling herself into the middle of a battle. Two men came and dragged the first man to the side, their heads shaking as they looked down at the man's body. Too late.

A scuffle broke out from beside one of the buildings, two men struggling, fists flying. Because they were both dressed like locals, the thought that maybe, just maybe this was a rescue died inside her mind.

More shots.

More yelling.

A rough hand clamped over her mouth and she screamed.


	14. Chapter 14

"It's me, Jenny-bean! It's just me!" A man whispered in her ear, his arms wrapped tightly around her body.

Her brain recognized Brandon's nick-name and she stopped moving, while her heart answered with an equally static burst of rib aching pounding. For a brief moment she'd hoped… despite her terror… that maybe… just maybe… it would have been Ronon.

God she wished he was here.

But he wasn't. He was off reading Ancient ruins with SGA-1. He probably didn't even know she wasn't even in Atlantis.

There was no one else here.

Just… Brandon.

Brandon… and Evan – damn it – she needed to find Evan.

"Brandon." She croaked out when he removed his hand. Jen stared at him. He was dressed like a local farmer – rough trousers and a knitted shirt. He was dirty and unshaven and was watching at her intently.

Yells and gunshots echoed behind her, and despite her complete dislike for the man, and the fact that he wasn't at all who she really wanted to see, she felt a wave relief wash over her at his familiar face. She found herself hugging him back.

He squeezed, kissed her forehead, then suddenly released her. He stood up, reaching for her hand. "Come on! We don't have much time!"

Jen let him help her up and she ran with him, away from the village and into the trees. He pulled her forward, the sounds of the battle echoing around them. Several times he pulled her under branches, or behind trunks, listening, checking to make sure no one was coming before continuing on. She stumbled, her bare feet catching a root and he steadied her, his arm around her waist as they moved quickly through the forest. She winced when his hand landed on her injured side and pulled away. He slid his fingers down her left arm and grabbed her hand, squeezing it tightly as he pulled her through the woods.

"Brandon, what are you doing here?" She asked quickly, her voice a harsh whisper. "Are you okay? You didn't come back with the others!"

Brandon didn't immediately answer, just kissed the back of her hand and continued on through the trees. After a few minutes, he pulled her in behind a large trunk, and pressed her up against the bark. "I have to tell you something."

"Right _now_?" She looked around, an orange glow beginning to light their surroundings with dull, ginger accents. Something was burning in the village.

He nodded, his eyes wide. "We might not make it out of here alive. I have to get this off my chest."

"Brandon," Jen muttered. "Were going to be fine. We just have to get to the Star-"

He cut her off with a pressing kiss.

Jen blinked and snapped her head away. "Brandon! This is not the time for kissy-face!"

"I love you."

"You… you what?"

"I've always loved you." He kissed her again, and she pushed him away.

"Brandon, cut it out! We need to get out of here. We have to go for help! I need to get to Evan!"

"I'm madly, horribly, fanatically in love with you." He said quietly, his voice pleading.

Jen gaped.

"I love you." He repeated, kissing her quickly. "I want you. I need you. Tell me you don't feel the same, Mirana my love."

Jen blinked. "Mirana?"

"We may…" He stopped. "What?"

"Mirana? Who's Mirana?" She put her hand on Brandon's forehead. "Are you okay?"

He clasped her hand between his and dropped to his knees. "We may not survive this, my love. We may not live to see tomorrow. I love you. I want you forever. If we get out of this alive… If we make it back to the States… Will you… will you marry me?"

Jen gaped. Opened her mouth. Closed it. Opened it again. "Are you completely insane?" She wriggled her hand free. "Get off the ground, you… you… idiot! We have to get out of here."

"But Jenny!"

She stepped around him.

"Jenny!" He stood up, grabbing her hand and pulling her back around. "You can't go! You can't just leave. That's not how it happens!"

Jen froze.

"How _what_ happens?"

Brandon stiffened.

Jen stepped closer. "How what happens, Brandon?"

"Nothing." He muttered. "Nothing happens."

"Oh God Brandon." Jen whispered, a rush of realization shaking her fingers. "What have you done?"

"I didn't do anything." He stepped back.

"You _did_ this?" She stared at him, looking through the trees at the village, two buildings now alight in flames. "You did this… it's all a joke to you, isn't it! How could you? How _dare _you! You… you… oh God you're pathetic."

At her sharp words, his expression changed. Darkened.

She stepped back as his voice lowered.

"Oh come off it, Jenny. I didn't plan _all_ of this… although it would have been one of my greatest accomplishments off screen if I had. This place is amazing!" He held his arms wide and looked around at the trees, now brightly glowing in deep orange flickers. "These people, this galaxy, ripe for the taking! These two villages – perfect! Already setting up raids, I barely had to do anything to convince them to wait a few days, and suggest a fire or two for lighting effects! I just needed to get my favorite actress here, after all. Who knew all it took was a simple bribe and a couple of locals to take out your soldiers, and voila. Like a good little Doctor here you come!"

"Ohmygod." She whispered in horror, her hand covering her mouth, stepping away as he moved forward. "You didn't. You couldn't. You bribed them to shoot Davidson and Zeeman? My God, Brandon. They could have died!"

Brandon shrugged. "No actors to work with here in the other side of the universe. I had to improvise."

"Improvise? Shooting innocent men is… is… not improvising! I can't believe you could do such a thing. I can't… I can't even think straight. You're… you're a monster. How could you?"

He simply smiled.

"It worked brilliantly, didn't it? Well…" He shrugged… "Except for our pal, Ev. Sneaky guy with all that running through the trees. And fast too. Took out two of my guys before I could grab you."

"Evan?" She croaked, moving back further.

"Don't worry." He grinned. "He was still alive when I left him. He'll have quite a headache I imagine."

"You?" She gaped. "That was… You hit him? But I don't understand. Why are you doing this? Why are you telling me this? I can't believe you'd think I'd possibly have anything to do with you after all of this. You… you're… you are… completely… insane!"

He laughed. "Oh my dear, dear Jenny-bean. Don't tell me you never saw _Treasure of Marcos_?"

She shook her head, her heel connecting with a tree root and she stumbled back. He pressed forward.

"It was one of my biggest grossing! Won the People's Choice Award for Leading Male! I can't believe you never saw it. The ending…" He put his finger tips to his lips and kissed them. "Spectacular. Although we're going to have to alter it a little since you broke yourself out of the room. You were supposed to wait for me to get there, you know. I would break in and rescue you… tied to the bed wearing nothing but a flimsy, sheer nightgown… very revealing in the firelight."

Jen's arms quickly tightened across her chest and she stumbled again, catching herself against a tree. He continued to press forward, pushing her closer and closer to the village. To the guns. To the fire.

"I untie you… your fear and your confusion unwrapping as we kiss… your love for me evident in your tears. I've come for you. We escape into the jungle, pursued by the soldier who wants you for his own. He captures us… He wants me dead. But you can't live to bear the thought of anything happening to me. The Marcosian soldier raises his hand to shoot…" Brandon raised his hand, his index finger pointing at Jennifer's chest. "But you… you my dear Mirana, leap in front of me, the man you love, and the bullet meant for me pierces your very sexy chest. My gun raises and I kill him… I kill him for taking you away from me. I raise your dying body… carry you through the town… through the fire… you whisper your unending love, and die in my arms."

He paused, his hands in the air. "And fade to black."

"Oh god." Jen heard herself exhale.

Brandon tipped his head back and laughed, long and drawn out. He reached out, pulling a lock of her hair between his fingers. "Beautiful." He whispered, his face sobering. "You'll be so beautiful in the ending, Jenny. You should have been my actress. We could have been so good together. But this… this will have to do. You will be one of my greatest scenes. Alas, we have no film, but I promise you, my dear Jenny, I will keep you alive forever…" He tapped his temple. "In here."

Jen couldn't look away. Couldn't stop her ears from taking in his speech. His description. His words. The insanity in his eyes as he smiled. He looked so… happy. Ecstatic. Like he was standing on stage in front of millions, once again accepting that People's Choice Award. It drove a spike of fear right through her abdomen. She could no longer breathe. She could no longer think.

A shudder washed over her and her body trembled.

Over her shoulder, somewhere in the village, shouts resumed, louder, more frantic.

A sharp spike of sound her mind refused to believe.

Another blast. Then another. Two more in rapid succession.

The familiar sound called to her and her heart answered, taking her body with it.

_Ronon_.

He was _here_.

Jen turned and ran, fear and adrenaline driving her forward, one bare foot after the other. Towards the village. Towards the fire. Towards the sound of protection and survival. Towards Ronon.

She stumbled, her ankle twisting, arms reaching to brace herself from falling when something solid and heavy slammed into her back driving her into the ground. Her head connected with something cold and hard and with a blinding flash of pain, the world went black.

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_A/N - Okay even I'm hating Brandon right now. The guy is such a disgusting - and insane (apparently) - little worm. :P More ASAP! I promise! - Nika_


	15. Chapter 15

Ronon ran into little resistance as he neared the village. The raid was already in full swing, and he passed several men, pairs and groups headed in different directions.

He dropped everyone who crossed his path, leaving a trail of stunned and unconscious villagers in his wake.

They were no competition.

He had a mind for only one task.

Jennifer.

Anyone else was incidental.

The forest thinned as he reached the village, a dark orange light brightening everything into long, flickering shadows. Two buildings on the outskirts of the town were aflame… men and women scurrying about with pails from the well, dousing the windows and walls with water.

Ronon ignored their shouts and cries as he skirted the village, the shadows shielding him as he crossed the length of the town to the far end. His target stood alone against the dark sky, the building where Jennifer should be.

The door was no longer guarded, but he took the inside at a crouch. It looked, and felt, abandoned. He followed the stairs to the second floor.

The room on his right was empty save for a pile of clothes.

He recognized the small band of yellow around the sleeve of a jacket.

Jennifer's clothes.

Wet and muddy.

Her boots. Her radio.

He grabbed the com and stuffed it into his pocket.

The room across the hall was closed, it's door barring his progress. A twist of metal looped through the door locked it – keeping whatever was on the other side from escaping.

He stood back, raised his boot, and swiftly separated the lock and the handle from the door jam. As the door smashed open, he aimed into the room, a twist of agony coiling through his abdomen to find it empty.

Ropes dangling from the headboard. One still tightly tied, a red shine to the loops, the other hanging free.

She'd escaped.

"Good girl." He growled, crossing the room to the open window. He stared down at the ground. If she'd used the window below, it would have been an easy height to clear safely. But where was she now? There were many villagers running through the trees, shooting at anything that moved. It was too dangerous to be out there – especially unarmed.

He tapped his com, and climbed out the widow. "Sheppard. She's gone."

"Hoyle?" Came Sheppard's question – a multitude of suggestions in the single word.

"Don't think so. Looks like she made it out herself. I'm going after her."

Sheppard acknowledged, and Ronon heard him ordering the others to circle around the village as he dropped to the ground and ran back into the forest.

* * *

Jen's head ached. God did it ache. She blinked open her eyes, squinting at the flickers of… fire… fire? Why was there a fire? And why was she upside down?

Oh wait.

She wasn't upside down.

Just her head was.

She groaned and tried to raise her head, but the angle, and the pain, made the movement difficult. So she settled for angling her chin.

_Brandon_.

Oh crap.

Every ounce of adrenaline in her body surged forward and flailed with pure panic. Pain in her head ignored. Pain in her ribs ignored.

Arms, legs, head.

Everything moved, everything swung.

Fingernails.

Teeth.

Every part joined the battle until he dropped her – hard – onto the ground.

She was up on her feet almost instantly, her hands pushing her forward in a spastic, jerking crawl as she struggled to moved.

She ran away from the village, away from the fire, away from the light, and away from Brandon. If she could get away, get darker, deeper, she could hide. Branches clipped her arms as she raised her hands to protect her face. Her bare feet crunched painfully down on sharp branches and twigs. She ran faster. Pushed for more. She could hear him behind her, cursing the foliage, cursing her, calling her, begging her to come back, begging her to believe his mistake.

She ran between trees, under branches, through brambles and bushes. She could hear him, still behind her, but he was fading. She was out running him.

A muffled curse in the distance and she chanced a glance over her shoulder. She couldn't see him. Could barely hear him. She was going to make it.

Her body slammed to a stop.

Her ribs screamed in protest as she twisted her upper body to get her hands down first before her injured side. The dizzying spin spiked through her conscious and she was out before her body hit the ground.


	16. Chapter 16

Ronon flowed through the forest, trees, branches, rocks, deadfall, all falling behind him as he searched. The firelight gave him visibility and he slid to a stop, the distinct shape of a single, bare footprint catching his eye. He bent, touched his fingers to the wet earth. Eyes up, he followed the direction and caught a flash of white through the trees.

In a heartbeat he was up and moving, eyes locked on the location of the flicker of movement. If it was Jennifer, she was moving back towards the village, towards the buildings which burned.

Light increased, sounds and activity increased. Two sentries tagged his peripherals and he dropped them both without slowing.

When he broke out of the trees, the sight that reached him took away every piece of emotion he had and left him raw and empty.

Brandon Hoyle.

Holding Jennifer's limp form in his arms.

Brandon faced the fire, the silhouette of Jennifer's upper body hanging over his arm. Her arms dangling lifelessly, her head back, exposing her neck to the elements. Hoyle's movements swayed her hair as it fell down, golden in the glowing light of the fire.

Ronon remembered the Major's words.

_She died in his arms. _

"Hoyle!" He ordered, his gun aimed directly at the man's head.

Hoyle turned slowly and Ronon stepped to the side, giving him light to see faces from the shadows.

"It was an accident!" Brandon cried, his face awash with regret and fear.

Ronon's eyes took in Jennifer's mud covered clothes, her back arched over one arm, legs draped over the other, her skin and pale in the firelight. A dark red trail of blood mixed with mud as it dripped from a large gash in her forehead, trailing down into her hanging hair. A fresh wound.

He caught the faint rise of her chest.

_She breathed. _

_She was alive._

Ronon stared at the man who'd caused her pain. The man who'd threatened her. The man who'd possibly orchestrated this entire event just to get to the woman he now held in front of him.

Brandon Hoyle looked as though he'd just lost his lady love. His eyes, his expression, the horror he projected on his face, it was damn convincing.

If Ronon wasn't seeing the rest of the picture.

Hoyle didn't hold her with reverence, he was carrying her like an object. She wasn't cradled against a man who loved her, she was being slung about like a bag of grain… Hoyle didn't look at Jennifer, he looked at Ronon's weapon. And he was shifting Jennifer higher, her body shielding his torso.

McKay was right. The man was a coward.

"Set her down." Ronon growled, his voice low and commanding. He stepped closer, gun aimed directly at Hoyle's head.

"Oh thank god." Hoyle cried out, stepping forward. "You're from the city! You've come to rescue us. Thank God. She fell. Hit her head. I was just-"

"Put. Her. Down." Ronon ordered, his gun charging as he stepped closer to Hoyle. "Carefully."

"Yes, yes." Brandon stammered, beginning to squat. "Of course."

As Hoyle began to lower Jennifer, she stirred. Ronon heard a hiss of breath as she opened her eyes, but even _he_ wasn't expecting her next reaction.

With fists and feet Jennifer began pummeling Brandon Hoyle. She kicked, she twisted, she shoved him with her arms to the point where he gave up trying to hold her and let her go, dropping her unceremoniously to the ground. She landed with a grunt and rolled to her hands and knees, instantly on her feet, scrambling for the trees.

"Jennifer!" Ronon yelled, his attention moving away from Brandon. In two steps taking off after her. She slid in the mud, her arms pin-wheeling as she tried to run, tried to stop, and tried to turn all in one motion. She hit the earth hard on her left side, and cried out with pain.

Ronon's knee landed in the dirt beside her, his eyes on the trees, leading with his weapon.

Brandon was gone.

Ronon could find him – would find him – but it would have to wait.

"Ronon?" Jen whispered, rolling onto her back.

"Hey Doc." He said softly, his eyes jumping between the trees, and the woman on the ground. "Having fun?"

"Ronon! Oh god…" She threw her arms around his neck and he pulled her against him. He pulled her to her feet, his arm still tightly secured around her waist. She winced and grabbed her side, and he moved to release her, then changed his mind when her legs wobbled and her knees gave out. Pulling one arm over his shoulder, crossing the other over her stomach, he lifted her up, tucking her head under his chin. She sighed and closed her eyes as he moved quickly into the security of the forest.

"I don't care how you're here…" She whispered against his neck. "I'm just really, really glad you are."

"So am I, little one."

She settled against him, stilling in his arms. "Okay, wow, my head hurts."

Moments later he cleared a small copse of trees and stepped out in front of the oncoming Sheppard.

"Fuck." Evan cursed. "Is she…"

"Oh God." McKay echoed. "Tell me she's not…"

Jen turned her head and squinted at the others. "Evan?" She wriggled in Ronon's arms and he let her down. She wobbled towards the Major. "God, I thought he'd killed you."

"Rumors, Doc." Evan nodded, a broad smile at seeing her alive. He winced, but didn't move away as her fingers probed the lump on the side of his head. "I have a hard head."

"Good. 'Cause me… I'm not so sure about." Jen muttered, stepping back from the Major with a nod, then glancing around at the others. "Would you… um… would you all excuse me for a minute? I think I need to lie down for a minute."

Then her eyes rolled back into her head and she dropped right back into Ronon's outstretched arms.

He picked her up, and turned towards the others. "We need to get her back."

Everyone turned in cohesion, forming a circle around Ronon, or more to the point, the package he carefully carried.

"Hoyle?" Evan looked at Ronon.

"He was carrying her towards the village."

Evan and Rodney exchanged knowing glances.

"Was?" John raised an eyebrow.

"Was." Ronon nodded.

"You didn't…"

"No." Ronon shook his head, once, the edge of his mouth bending into a smile. "But I will."


	17. Chapter 17

Pronounced fit except for bruised ribs, three stitches on her head, cuts to her feet, and a low-grade concussion, Jen was released into the growling care of Ronon. They'd offered to keep her overnight but she was tired… and she needed sleep… the uninterrupted kind you couldn't get in an infirmary. So she overruled them all and checked herself out. Being CMO had its advantages some days.

They offered her a wheelchair to keep her off her sore feet for the next twenty-four hours, but Ronon had his own recommendation for transportation.

And Jen had to say, with a bandage on her temple, another around her wrist, cuts and scrapes pretty much everywhere, and a side that ached whenever she moved incorrectly, she didn't really care who saw Ronon carrying her down the hallway, so long as she didn't have to walk.

She just wanted out of the infirmary.

She was still wearing that damn white nightie, covered in dirt, and she felt like a refugee from a mud slide.

She wanted a bath.

She wanted a bed.

The rocking motion of Ronon's stride lulled her into sleep, then the lack of motion jerked her awake.

She looked around… her bathroom?

He set her down on the counter, pulling away slowly, his index finger tracing the gauze on her forehead.

"So how are you… really?" He asked, his eyes locked on hers.

She smiled up at him. "Tired. Sore. Dirty." She paused. "Alive."

He nodded, his hand against the side of her cheek, and she turned her head, kissing his palm.

He lowered his head, his forehead to hers. She sighed and leaned into him, her fingers sliding up to his waist. They stood silently, breathing in tandem, until she yawed, then laughed.

He straightened with a shake of his head then turned around, readying a bath. He checked the water, and grabbed the bottle of the bubbles she was so fond of, dumping an generous portion.

She yawned again and he turned. "Come on." He nodded at the filthy garment she wore. "Let's get you cleaned up."

Jen nodded, smirking to think that a few weeks ago, she'd have been half dead from embarrassment to find him in her bathroom, much less running her a bath… or undressing her. Which of course lead to all kinds of thoughts of things she was probably way to sore and tired to even think of, but the fact that she _was_ even thinking of it made her laugh.

He reached for her waist, then hesitated. "What?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. Tired. Giggly."

Ronon slid her off the counter and clutched the material along her sides, lifting it slowly. She raised her arms, wincing then lowing her left slightly. He gently pulled the material over her head and dropped it onto the floor.

She stood in front of him, wearing nothing but a pair of white underwear. She looked… ready to drop. Her skin was pale, dark circles under her eyes ringed with smudges of dirt and mud. A huge, ugly bruise was forming along her left side. A bruise he'd add to the list of transgressions against Brandon Hoyle.

He'd heard her story – and Lorne's story – told succinctly and matter-of-fact. She'd covered the elements and included all the pertinent details. But Ronon watched her fingers twisting while she talked, the way she chewed the inside of her lip. She was incredibly upset over the whole ordeal – and rightfully so. Yet she'd held her own. She'd gotten away. She'd fought Hoyle like a wildcat.

Her shoulders slumped and she blinked up at him… hazel eyes staring quietly into his.

"Hey." She said softly, her fingers tracing the tattoo on the side of his neck. "I'm okay. Really."

He nodded. Yes. She _was_ okay.

This time.

But there were far too many _what if's_ in that statement.

"Come on." He nodded, and glanced over his head at the growing pile of bubbles behind him. "We'll get you cleaned up and into bed."

She smiled. "We?"

He nodded, a grin spreading slowly. "Someone has to wash your back."

* * *

Jen awoke several times over the next twelve hours, twice with Ronon's body wrapped around her like a heated, protective blanket, and the third time alone in a sunbeam. She stretched, feeling the pull of her sore ribs, and rolled over, turning her face up into the late morning sun.

Her stomach grumbled and she smiled.

Hmm… hungry.

She dressed slowly, taking her time in the bathroom, in part because she was so stiff she could hardly move. Her feet ached, so she added a double pair of socks for extra cushioning, and tried not to walk too stiffly. She pulled on her jacket, adding her watch to her left wrist, since her right was jagged and raw. Checking herself in the mirror she decided she looked… like hell.

She shrugged.

Well, at least she was upright.

Her first stop was the infirmary, where she checked on Davidson and Zeeman. Both men were doing fine, and Davidson would most likely be released on good behavior tomorrow. Grabbing a light breakfast from the mess hall, she returned to her office and finished up several hours worth of paperwork, reports, and filing.

By the time lunch had come and gone she'd had a steady stream of visitors and well-wishers, many of whom had heard through the Lantian grapevine that she'd run into trouble on the last mission. Some people joked about her off-world record, but most were just wanting to find out about superstar Brandon Hoyle and did she think they'd find him, and would he be okay.

She nodded politely, the entire time fighting the urge to smack the next person that was so concerned with Brandon Hoyle.

She knew Ronon and the others had left early this morning to _retrieve_ him, so she tried to keep busy, eventually finding nothing left to do in her office that she hadn't already done. She'd heard they'd returned over an hour ago – not that she'd been keeping track - and since they hadn't brought Brandon to the infirmary… or the morgue… she figured he was probably in the brig and the others were debriefing.

She stood and stretched slowly, deciding to go see what McKay was up to. He'd opted out of the Brandon retrieval mission, so she figured at least he'd be someone to take her mind off things for a while. She'd ask him what he was working on and could count on at least thirty minutes of explanations and talking that could easily make anyone forget an impending wraith attack.

Rodney looked up when she walked into the lab and waved her over the coffee mug temporarily blocking his voice. She pulled up a chair and leaned her elbows on the table.

"This," he said, setting down the mug and waiving his hand in front of the screen. "Is why I'm a genius and Zelenka isn't."

"I see." Jen smiled.

He then proceeded to tell her how Zelenka's insistence that a specific set of mathematical calculations were correct was a crock when Rodney's equation would prove much faster…

Jen happily lost track of everything soon after the third decimal.

It wasn't until Rodney _stopped_ speaking that she looked up.

And the expression on his face spun her around in her seat.

"Jenny-bean!"

Jen staggered back.

Rodney stepped forward.

It was just as Brandon was reaching for her with one of his signature hugs, that Rodney smashed Hoyle across the back of the head with his keyboard.

Brandon blinked.

Blinked again.

Then flopped face down on the floor beside her.

"Damn." Rodney muttered, flipping his now broken keyboard over his shoulder and onto Brandon's back. "I spilled my coffee."

.

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_A/N Wooooo betcha weren't expecting that now were you? :P Don't worry - next chapter coming soon!_


	18. Chapter 18

"What do you mean, he's going home?" Rodney was incredulous. "You can't possibly be serious!"

Woolsey clasped his hands and leaned forward over the boardroom table, all eyes in the room staring directly at him.

"Unfortunately," Woolsey nodded towards Jen. "And I do mean _unfortunately_, it is a case of he-said-she-said. It is Mr. Hoyle's word against Dr. Keller's."

The room erupted in loud exclamations of disgust and dismay, and Jen shook her head, staring down at the white gauze that crossed her wrist. Her ribs were sore from sitting in the hard plastic chairs, and she really just wanted to get this all over with and go have a nap.

A nice, long nap.

Sleeping and forgetting.

Because Brandon Hoyle was going home.

They'd returned to the planet – John, Evan, Teyla, and Ronon, to track down Brandon, but the idiot had been standing next to the gate, arms up in complete surrender. Ronon had shot him anyway out of spite, but judging by the tension oozing out of Ronon's entire body, it had been less than satisfying.

Richard Woolsey was sending him home via a special Earth powered link through the Stargate, at the demand of one very wealthy US Senator. And because Jen had been the only one to hear his confession, it was he-said-she-said. And Brandon Hoyle was denying everything.

After starting a riot on a distant world, planning to kill her, nearly killing Major Lorne, and being an all out ass, he was going home with a pat on the back, a cocky grin on his face, and nothing more than a headache from Rodney's shattered keyboard. Not nearly punishment enough.

A warm hand landed on hers and she looked up at Ronon.

"Dr. Keller?" Richard's voice cut through her bandage picking and she turned, everyone watching her.

"I… um… beg your pardon?" She blinked.

"Do you have anything you would like to add before we contact Stargate command?"

"Oh." Jen shrugged. "No. I mean… It doesn't really matter what I say does it?"

"Oh no, no, Dr. Keller," Richard shook his head. "That's not true. Your opinion matters-"

"Oh please." McKay interrupted, throwing his arms up in disgust. "You just told her that Mr. Hollywood gets a free ride after trying to kill not one, but _two_ of our team members, and that no one believes her."

"I did not say that no one believes her. Nor did I say that her opinion does not matter." Woolsey reiterated.

"What about my opinion?" Rodney continued his rant with a shake of his head. "Or any of our opinions?" Unanimous nods from around the table. "He's out there right now getting a round of applause from everyone in the city because no one knows he _caused_ the riot he was supposedly rescued from… all because of some idiotic IOA gag order? Puh-leeze. Opinions, my ass."

Woolsey sighed. "Dr. McKay, I realize that you're upset."

"Upset?" Sheppard shook his head. "You wouldn't like Rodney when he's upset. This is more of an… annoyed-to-the-point-of-blowing-something-up face. Now me… I'm upset. And Ronon, well… that's his patiently-waiting-to-inflict-incredible-pain face. Teyla's too, only hers is more subtle. And much better looking."

"Thank you, Colonel." Teyla smiled and nodded.

"Major Lorne," John continued. "He has more of a…"

"Wanting-to-beat-him-to-death-with-my-bare-hands, face?"

"Yeah…" John nodded. "Aptly put, Major. Aptly put."

"Thank you, sir."

"Gentlemen.. and ladies… _please_." Richard raised his hands. "If you would let me get a word in edgewise?"

Silence.

"Thank you." Woolsey nodded. "Now as I was saying, Dr. Keller, do you have anything you'd like to add? The IOA has granted you the right to file a complaint against Mr. Hoyle, through regular Earth channels."

"Oh yeah 'cause we know how much _that_ will help." Rodney muttered.

Woolsey glanced at Rodney, who was madly punching keys on his tablet, mumbling about the mathematical statistics of random worm hole accidents.

Jen glanced around the table, and shook her head. "No. I can't take the chance the Senator will change his mind and go after my Dad."

"No one's going to hurt your Dad, Doc." John's chair snapped forward and he leaned on the table, a flash of anger in his eyes as they quickly shifted to the head of the table. "Will they, Mr. Woolsey."

Richard shook his head. "Our people will certainly be keeping an eye on your father, Dr. Keller."

Evan shook his head. "Are these the same _people_ who were supposed to do the background check on the nutcase who started a riot off-world? The same _people_ who let the nutcase's Daddy get enough pull with the IOA to get psycho-movie-boy past Stargate protocols and into Atlantis? The same _people_ who are now taking this nutcase back home and releasing him into the general population of Earth? The same _people_ who-"

"Very well, Major." Woolsey interrupted, holding up his hands in defeat. "I get your point. We all get your point."

John reached for his earpiece. "Go ahead."

Everyone stopped.

John smiled, dark and dangerous. "Forward it to McKay." He said quickly, lowering his hand.

Rodney stared at Sheppard.

"We've just received a coded transmission from General O'Neill." John nodded, rolling his chair closer to the scientist so he could look over his shoulder.

Everyone looked at the Colonel, then at McKay, who, with a few quick taps on his tablet was suddenly grinning very broadly.

"Sheppard," Rodney gushed. "You _are_ a genius. And speaking as one myself… twice over… I feel more than qualified to grant you fellow genius status on this auspicious occasion. Brilliant. Absolutely brilliant. I couldn't have done better myself."

Everyone looked at John.

"I made a few phone calls." He shrugged simply.


	19. Chapter 19

_Author's Note - You'll have to let me know how quickly you figure out what's going on in this chapter! First paragraph? Second? Third? :P - Nika_

* * *

Her four inch heels dangling off the edge of the chair, Jen bounced her right leg over her left, her ankle keeping time to the soft country tune playing in the jukebox. Adjusting the hem of her sundress, she tried _very_ hard not to laugh at the three men in front of her.

General O'Neill had most certainly outdone himself. Jen wasn't sure how she was ever going to thank the man. She probably shouldn't be this happy at seeing someone get their just comeuppance - being a Doctor and all – but like her Daddy always said…

_Life or Death, Jenny. Sometimes the universe just needs balance._

And apparently, Jack O'Neill was a man who also believed in universal balance.

Jen had originally said no. She didn't want anyone getting hurt. But the wounded, angry, frustrated and disappointed looks she received from the four horsemen made her reluctantly change her mind. And the promise that there'd be no death or maiming.

Because in trade for not mysteriously disappearing in the wormhole between Pegasus and Earth, Brandon Hoyle had opted to reenact Jen's entire tavern rescue movie scene.

Only this time… the biker's weren't actors.

The entire charade came compliments of one Jack O'Neill and a certain Senator Hoyle, both of whom had apparently come to some sort of compromise.

A compromise that now found Jen sitting on a bar stool in the corner of a dusty old tavern in the middle of North Dakota, waiting for the illustrious Brandon Hoyle to arrive.

The exterior of the building was surrounded by more men-in-black and Marines than Jen had ever seen in one place – other than the movies. The Daedalus orbited above, ready to beam them back to the SGC when the mission was over.

Mr. Woolsey was sitting on a stool at the end of the long wooden bar, playing the part of arbitrator and pre-agreed upon witness. Since Jen was technically acting, they had a medical team on standby outside, complete with gurney and waiting air-ambulance. At first Jen thought the air-ambulance was unnecessary. Then she found out from Colonel Sheppard that Senator Hoyle threatened to sue her and her next three generations if she performed any part of the medical care on anyone in the bar. Since Jen was pretty sure she could count on one _finger_ the number of people who were going to need the air-ambulance, she changed her mind and consented.

It didn't hurt her decision that Brandon apparently thought he was playing for keeps. According to Mr. Woolsey, both Brandon and the Senator had some crazy idea that if he could get Jen out of the tavern, he would win. And what they decided Brandon was going to win, was Jennifer.

Ronon thought that was absolutely hilarious… but Jen wasn't sure if his laughter was genuine humour… or more of a not-a-chance-in-hell rumble.

She might have been worried that Brandon really _would_ carry her off… if not for the testosterone trio standing in front of her.

Now if only she could just stop laughing long enough to get herself under control.

She looked up at Colonel Sheppard and the giggles started again.

"Come on, Doc." John rolled his eyes, leaning on the edge of the bar. He shifted his weight and propped a bike-boot clad foot up on the shoe rail. "You're supposed to be scared of us."

"Sorry." She snickered, biting the inside of her cheek. "It's just that you guys are probably the _least_ scariest people I know. And those outfits…"

"Did she just insult us?" Evan looked shocked.

"I'm wounded, Doc." John clutched his hand over his heart, palm flat against a faded Punisher t-shirt. "Absolutely wounded."

Jen giggled again.

"Speaking of outfits, how come Ronon didn't have to change?" Evan pulled at the tight black muscle shirt that was tucked into a pair of black leather pants with silver buckles down the outside seams.

"Please," Rodney muttered from behind the bar, tossing a towel over his shoulder and crossing his arms. "The man already dresses like an ad for Harley Davidson. And you're supposed to look like tough bikers. Although The Punisher here isn't quite pulling it off with _that_ hair."

"What's wrong with my hair?" John muttered, checking himself out in the mirror behind the rows of liquor bottles.

"It doesn't match the leather pants."

"I feel ridiculous." Evan muttered, picking at the leather buckles. He looked at Ronon, who was lounging on the stool on the other side of Jen. "How do you wear this all the time? It doesn't breathe worth shit."

Ronon shrugged. "Doesn't bother me."

"Well, I think you look very cute." Jen nodded at Evan.

"Cute!" Evan muttered. "Jeeze, Doc, you really know how to hurt a guy."

"Oh." Jen nodded, and pursed her lips. "Um… okay. Right. Sorry. How about… you look very… sexy?"

Ronon growled.

"I'll stick with cute." Evan raised his hands in mock surrender and stepped away from Ronon. "Cute's good."

"Don't worry Ev," Jen leaned past John towards Evan. "Ladies love a good-looking guy in leather." She nodded. Then flushed immediately, taking in the knowing smirks from both the Colonel and the Major. "I mean… in general. I just… What I meant to say was… Oh hell." She burst out laughing, and turned towards Ronon. "Help me out here."

"Thought it sounded pretty good to me."

"In general." Jen muttered, looking at the ceiling. "Ladies like good-looking men, in leather, in general."

"So do some men." Rodney mumbled, looking at the bottles behind the bar.

Everyone looked up.

"What? Hey! I'm just saying!" He held up his hands. "Jeeze, I swear you guys have gutters for brains. Gutters. Complete gutters." He muttered and ducked down behind the bar, the sound of bottles clinking drowning out the rest of his insults.

John grinned at Jen, who was pretty much sunburn red from her cheeks to her shoulders.

Rodney popped back up, slamming a bottle onto the bar with an exaggerated "aha".

"What's that?" John raised an eyebrow in speculation.

"Wodka." Rodney nodded appreciatively.

"Vodka." John made a face. "With a V, Genius."

"No…" Rodney rolled his eyes and spun the label around. "Wodka… with a whuh, dumbass."

"What the hell is Wodka?" Evan stepped forward grabbing the bottle and scanning the label. "Tastes like real." He read, pointing out the odd sentence on the back of the bottle. "Real? Real what?"

Rodney dropped six glasses onto the bar and snatched the bottle back. Unscrewing the top he poured generous portions into each glass. Sliding one down to Woolsey, he shoved four forward, and picked the last one up for himself.

"To the movies." He nodded. "May the hero meet his maker."

Glasses clinked and alcohol disappeared.

Ronon set his glass down in time to catch Jen, who coughed so violently she slipped right off the side of her stool. John grimaced and swore, and Evan clutched his breastbone. Woolsey set his glass down with a soft _gaah_, and Rodney merely shook his head.

"Bunch of babies." The scientist mumbled.

"Colonel." Woolsey called from the end of the row. "Mr. Hoyle has arrived and finished his warm up exercises."

"Warm up exercises?" John raised an eyebrow, grinning. "Should I be worried?"

"You need to stretch first?" Evan angled his chin at Sheppard. "You're not as young as you used to be."

John snorted and took a swing at Evan, which the Major quickly feinted.

"Gentlemen." Woolsey cautioned. "Please save it for the correct time. And Dr. McKay… the same goes for your… Wodka."

Rodney shrugged and stopped pouring the next round. "Just trying to get into character." He frowned.

Jen suddenly felt not-so-sure of the whole plan. A flicker of memory slid through her mind and she shivered. Okay maybe this wasn't such a good idea… Maybe she shouldn't have agreed to this. These guys were mad… it was silly to start with but now that it was about to begin…

Ronon leaned closer, his mouth beside her ear. "Relax." He whispered. "He's not going to come near you."

Jen glanced up at him. "If you say so."

He straightened up and looked directly into her eyes. "I say so." Then he nodded at Rodney, who tapped another overflowing shot glass against the back of Jen's hand.

"So how's this thing supposed to start?" John looked at Woolsey, then grinned as Jen slid off the slippery stool with another round of gasping coughs.

"God, Rodney." She gasped and clutched her chest. "That stuff's awful."

Rodney shrugged and knocked back another glass, sliding a third one towards her. "Better than Zelenka's embalming fluid."

"He's standing by." Woolsey nodded, lowering his hand from his ear. "Anytime you're ready, Dr. Keller."

"So how's this supposed to start?" John looked at Jennifer, who quickly knocked back the shooter.

"I don't know." Jen coughed sharply, dropping the glass onto the bar with a nervous clatter. "Never saw the movie."

Rodney huffed. "Bad guys grab you, you scream, hero crashes through the door. Do none of you people know anything about good-guy-versus-bad-guy?"

"Does Jaws count?" Ronon asked.

"Technically that's good-guy-versus-bad-_shark_." Evan offered, stepping up in front of Jen so she was now completely surrounded.

"Oh for goodness sake." Rodney rolled his eyes. "Just scream."

She coughed again. "After drinking that?" She wheezed. "I can barely talk."

"Fine. Don't say I never contributed." Rodney muttered, leaning over the bar and sticking his fingers under her armpits, twisting them madly as she jumped and kicked, trying to force his hands away.

With both her hands struggling to keep her skirt from hiking above her hips, she exhaled with a spastic laugh and toppled into John's lap. Rodney was half over the bar preventing her from escaping his armpit attack. One foot flung up, nearly connecting a sharp, open toed heel with Ronon's jaw. He captured her ankle, then grabbed her other foot right before she cracked Evan in the face, suspending her between her stool and Sheppard's lap, while Evan tickled the back of her knees. This sent her into a loud, giggling convulsion and she screeched.

Very, very loudly.

With an echoing clatter the front door crashed open.


	20. Chapter 20

Jen had to admit, her position did look pretty… authentic.

She was strung out across a bar stool, with Ronon holding her feet, Evan holding her knees, and John holding her upper body off the floor as everyone turned to watch Brandon burst through the door.

Jen would have laughed, if she hadn't been suddenly having a really, really bad flashback.

He was wearing the exact same clothes that he'd worn the day he'd left her in the bar. Green dress shirt, open collar to the white t-shirt underneath, tan slacks. She'd memorized the outfit in her dreams over the years… and the look he was giving her right now told her he'd damn well remembered.

"Unhand her you fiends!"

"Fiends?" Ronon looked at Evan, who shrugged.

"God." Rodney rolled his eyes. "I forgot about that line."

Three pairs of hands set Jen upright on the bar, and the fourth pulled her over and onto her feet behind the wooden surface.

Her legs wobbled and she gripped the wooden surface.

"Oh crap." She exhaled as Brandon quoted his movie lines.

"Horrible." Rodney shook his head in disgust, sliding her another shot of Wodka.

Jen grabbed the glass and slugged it back, Rodney's hand whacking her back preemptively. At this rate she was going to be passed out on the floor before the first swing.

_Not a bad idea._

She grabbed the glass Rodney was lifting to his own lips and knocked it back too. Rodney raised an eyebrow and snatched the glass away. He poured two more, then quickly drank his while he handed her the other, watching her warily.

She wiggled her empty glass it him and managed to knock back one more by the time Brandon got around to taking his first swing.

He swung at Evan first, who dodged to the side and shoved his fist into Brandon's gut. Brandon, for all his posturing, recovered quickly and spun around, but Evan quickly connected a right cross into the actor's jaw. Brandon's head snapped to the side and he staggered, his right fist skimming past Evan's face as he turned, but Evan simply stepped to the side and let Brandon stumble past him and into a table.

Brandon straightened and shook his head quickly. With a curse he ran at Evan, who leaned to the left, grabbed Brandon's shoulder, and spun him towards the bar. Jen jumped back with a squeak when Brandon stumbled towards her, but Ronon stepped in front and grabbed Brandon before he reached the bar, spinning him back around and shoving him towards the Major. Evan planted another fist and Brandon staggered, holding the back of his hand against his split lip.

"What?" Brandon muttered at John and Ronon when Evan grinned. "You too chicken to fight?"

"Nah." John shook his head. "I just wanted to give you a fighting chance. Didn't want to tire you out too quickly after your warm up."

Brandon frowned, then looked at Ronon, who stood to the side, his arms crossed, watching.

"What's his problem?" The actor spat.

"He lost the coin toss." John shrugged.

"Fine." Brandon sneered. "Bring it on, soldier-boy."

"Oh." John shook his head. "Now there you go with the insults."

"Did he just call you a _soldier_?" Evan said, stepping around John to take a seat at the bar. He accepted Rodney's full shooter and knocked it back.

John tisked, shaking his head, stepping slowly towards Brandon. "Guess I need to explain the need for proper research before he undertakes any more Military roles."

Brandon shook his arms and hopped from foot to foot, earning him a questioning look from Sheppard.

"You watch too many movies." John shook his head sadly.

"What?" Brandon muttered, when John pointed to his feet.

Brandon looked down.

John took one step forward and swung a sharp uppercut, catching Brandon in the chin and sending him back into the tables, knocking them askew as he crashed to the floor.

"Shit!" Brandon muttered, spitting a mouthful of blood onto the floor. "You chipped my tooth!"

John shrugged. "I'm sure Daddy will buy you a new one."

Brandon scrambled up off the floor and ran at John with a guttural scream.

Jen jumped a good six inches and gasped, grabbing Rodney's upper arm. Rodney winced and peeled her fingers back, then stuffed another shooter into her hand. She drank it back, her eyes wide as she watched John spin, sending Brandon head-first into the edge of the bar.

She let out a squeak and jumped at the loud thunk, really hoping he was just going to stay down. She wasn't sure how much more her heart… or her liver… was going to be able to take.

But Brandon got right back up again.

"Hard head." Rodney nodded, impressed.

"Too bad it's empty." Evan added.

Brandon straightened and muttered a curse before stepping at John, his arms swinging. John dodged two rapid swings before squatting and nailing Brandon in the abdomen, following with another shot to the face. Brandon coughed and dove forward, wrapping his arms around Sheppard's waist and shoving him back. John bent over Brandon's back, clamped his arms around Brandon's waist, and flipped him over onto the pool table.

"Nice." Evan nodded.

Brandon rolled off the table, a pool cue gripped tightly in his hands. He snapped the cue in half over his knee and grinned maniacally at Sheppard.

Ronon cleared his throat.

John stepped back and shrugged, waiving his palm towards Brandon like Vana White. "Enjoy." John grinned, and joined Evan at the bar while Rodney poured another round.

Jen watched Ronon standing in the middle of the floor, arms crossed, watching Brandon spinning the broken pieces of wood. She wasn't really sure what Ronon was waiting for, nor did she really care because between John and Evan, Brandon was already bleeding all over the floor.

But, she supposed, Brandon _was_ still standing. Sort of. Okay it was more of an adrenaline fueled wobble, but technically he was still on his feet.

Jen had a really, really bad feeling that little item was about to change.

When Brandon ran forward, Ronon slid to the side, letting him run right past. Brandon ran into some tables, spun around, and ran at Ronon again, but Ronon just stepped to the side. After several passes, John and Evan were howling, and Rodney was grinning like an idiot, filling the quickly emptying shot glasses.

Jen suddenly realized the Colonel and the Major had settled into a drinking game. Every time Brandon stumbled past Ronon, they'd drink.

"Hey!" Ronon growled at them, letting Brandon sail past him. "Save me some."

"Don't worry." Rodney held up a full bottle. "Plenty to go around. But you'd better hurry before Keller here drinks all of it."

"Rodney!" Jen squeaked, quickly dropping the empty glass in her hands onto the bar.

Woolsey shook his head in defeat, and pinched his nose beneath his glasses.

"Don't worry, Jenny-bean." Brandon grinned through the blood in his teeth. "I'll buy you more when we get back to town." Then he blew her a kiss.

"Uh oh." Evan muttered.

"Yeah." John nodded.

They clinked glasses and chugged as Brandon let out a guttural cry of frustration and ran at Ronon, swinging the sticks.

Jen gasped as Brandon ran screaming towards Ronon, but Ronon's hands shot out, grabbing both Brandon's wrists, and halting the man mid stride. Brandon's face was red with effort, and blood, as he struggled against the Satedan. Ronon squeezed, and Brandon grunted, the pressure on his wrists forcing him to release the sticks. The wood clattered to the floor in the silence of the room. Right before the jukebox kicked into the next twangy tune, Ronon leaned forward and whispered something in Brandon's ear.

Jen saw Brandon's eyes shift to her before moving back to Ronon.

Ronon shoved Brandon away, took one step after him, and drove his fist into the side of Brandon's jaw.

With a spin and a spray of blood, Brandon slammed into the floor and lay still.

"Damn." Evan muttered, digging into the pocket of his leather pants and handing John a twenty.

John grinned, snatched the money, and stuffed the bill into his own pocket.

"What was that for?" Rodney asked Evan as he slid a full glass across the bar to Ronon, who dropped onto the stool next to the Colonel.

"I bet him Ronon would only take one punch." John grinned.

Evan shook his head. "I should have known better."

"Yes." Ronon knocked back his glass and slid it across the scuffed surface to Rodney. "You should have."

"Uh, Gentlemen?" Woolsey called from the end of the bar. "The Daedalus is ready whenever you are."

"You go ahead, Dad." John wiggled his empty glass at McKay. "We'll be up in a minute."

Woolsey shook his head sadly. "I need a raise." He muttered under his breath, contacting the Daedalus then disappearing in a flash of light.

"Okay now that Dad's gone…" John looked over at Ronon. "What'd you say to him."

Ronon shrugged, looked up at Jen, gulped down his once again full glass, then glanced at Sheppard. "Smile you son of a bitch."

John laughed, Evan hooted, and Rodney refilled the glasses.

"What?" Jen muttered. "Why is that funny?"

"It's the line from Jaws." Rodney nodded.

"Right before he blows up the shark." Evan grinned.

"Nice." John nodded.

"Figured it was appropriate." Ronon smirked.

John held up his glass. "To the movies."

"To the movies." Everyone echoed.


	21. Epilogue

_**Author's Note:** This little epilogue is to answer a few questions folks had about the message Evan left for Sheppard... and well... to sort of sum things up with the rest of the plot. If I missed anything - sorry! I had a blast writing this one, and am already working out the next little adventure in my head. And for those who asked, Wodka is indeed a real drink, which burns like a som'bitch when you drink it, and gets you pretty loopy pretty darn fast. So buyer beware! :P_

_Thanks to everyone for their awesome comments and reviews, questions and advice. As always, if you have any ideas or suggestions, just PM me! :P - Nika_

* * *

"Mornin' Doc." Evan nodded to Jennifer, setting his tray down and sliding into the empty seat across from her. "How's the head?"

Jen made a face. "Just fine, thank you." Then she shook bite of her toast. "Although my stomach feels like I swallowed pure acid. You?"

Evan shrugged. "I'm good."

"I can not believe you couldn't wait for me." Teyla muttered, dropping her tray onto the table and earning her startled looks from the surrounding groups. She slid into the chair next to Jen.

"Hey." John muttered, flopping down beside Evan, across from Teyla. "You know there was only three guys plus the bartender. We couldn't get Hoyle to agree to a waitress."

"Mr. Woolsey was allowed to attend."

"Yes." John nodded, his mouth full of scrambled eggs. He swallowed. "But Woolsey was there as an observer."

"I could have observed." Teyla pouted.

"You could not." Rodney walked up to the end chair between John and Teyla. He carefully set his loaded tray down and reached for his water bottle. "You wouldn't have been able to resist. Trust me."

"But everyone got to hit him but me." She sighed.

"And me." Jen nodded.

"You gave him a smack-down on the planet." Ronon said, dropping into the last chair at the end beside Evan and Jen.

"Smack down?" Evan raised an eyebrow.

"Sheppard's been letting him watch WWF." Rodney nodded, opening the top of a yogurt container.

"So everyone _did_ get to hit him but me." Teyla sighed again.

"Don't worry. I threw one in for you."

Teyla smiled. "Thank you."

"You're welcome."

"I would like to know, however… " Teyla leaned forward, looking at John. "How exactly _did_ General O'Neill convince Senator Hoyle to the… event?"

John smirked and bit off a chunk of toast. "Let's just say the Senator forgot that Atlantis is, first and foremost, a Military base."

"I don't understand." Jen shook her head.

"Technically General O'Neill could have let Sheppard keep him here indefinitely." Rodney nodded smugly. "_And_ overruled the IOA if Hoyle's return violated any military secrets. Apparently the Senator forgot that little tidbit. So instead he agreed to a… ah… showdown, if you will."

"Oh." Jen nodded. "Yeah. Okay. That I believe." She hesitated. "But seriously. What kind of man would agree to let his son get beat up?"

"One with a guilty conscience?" Evan shrugged.

"We didn't beat him up, Doc." John corrected. "We barely touched him. Hell, Ronon only got one shot in."

Ronon grinned.

"Technically so did McKay." Evan nodded.

Rodney smirked. "That's true."

Teyla sighed again, and John patted her hand. "Don't worry." He nodded. "I promise we'll find a way to get you in next time."

Jen coughed on her water. "There'd better not be a next time."

Ronon growled.

"Sorry - bad choice of words, Doc." John shrugged.

Jen nodded then looked from Evan to John. "Speaking of words, what was in the message you sent?"

"What message?" John tried his best to look innocent, but failed miserably.

"The message Evan sent you before we went to get Major Gillis?"

"Oh." John made a face. "That message."

"Well?" Jen looked pointed from one to the other.

"Um…" Evan looked at John.

"Oh for heaven's sake." Rodney muttered, digging into his scrambled eggs. "It said Goldilocks."

"Goldilocks?" Jen made a face. "What's that supposed to mean?"

"Mrrfmmp ooo." Rodney mouthed around his food.

Jen shook her head.

Rodney swallowed. "It's you. You're Goldilocks."

"I'm Goldilocks?" Jen frowned at John, who was glaring at Rodney.

"It's like a, ah... call sign, Doc." Evan said quickly.

Rodney snickered then jumped as John kicked him under the table.

"Ouch." Rodney muttered, rubbing his shin.

"Goldilocks?" Jen looked at Ronon, who shrugged. "As in… the Three Bears?"

"No." John shook his head.

"Yes." Rodney nodded, quickly spinning in his chair so his legs were away from the Colonel's boots.

"Why did you say Goldilocks?"

"The Major was trying to let the Colonel know you were going with him, incase you started a riot or something." Rodney said, ducking when Evan chucked a muffin at him. "What! Oh, please! Like she wouldn't have figured it out eventually! All she had to do was ask Chuck. The guy couldn't keep a secret if his life depended on it."

Jen snickered. "So if I'm Goldilocks, who's Baby Bear?"

Everyone pointed at McKay.

"Oh come on!" Rodney leaned back and crossed his arms. "Why am I Baby Bear?"

"My porridge is too hot…" John mimicked in a high pitched, sing-song voice. "My chair's broken. Someone's sleeping in my bed…"

"You'd better not be sleeping in his bed." Ronon whispered in Jen's ear, causing her to cough orange juice into her napkin.

"Okay…" Jen muttered, getting her breathing under control. "I can understand the Momma Bear and Papa Bear thing…" She wiggled her finger between Teyla and John.

"You're Momma Bear." John mouthed at Teyla.

Teyla raised an eyebrow.

"Actually I'm Papa Bear." Evan grinned at Jen.

"Oh." Jen frowned. "Okay. Then who's John?"

"Why Prince Charming, of course." John leaned back in his chair, grinning.

"Captain Kirk is more like it." Rodney muttered, ducking John's banana muffin.

"And Ronon?" Jen laughed.

"The big bad wolf." John shrugged.

Rodney snorted again, forgetting to duck as Ronon's muffin hit him square in the forehead.

"Okay _enough_ with the muffins!" Rodney exclaimed, picking Ronon's muffin off his lap and dropping it onto his tray.

"There's no wolf in Goldilocks." Jen grinned at Ronon.

"There is in this version." John laughed. "It is Pegasus after all."

* * *

_Later that night…_

Jen sighed and snuggled into Ronon's side, her arm thrown across his chest. He pulled her closer, tucking the blanket around her.

He kissed the top of her head, nuzzling her hair.

"Goodnight, Goldilocks." He said softly.

Jen sighed contentedly. "Goodnight, Wolf."


End file.
